Macross OneHalf
by Tail Kinker
Summary: The year is 2009. A nineteen-year-old Ranma Saotome has enlisted in the U.N. Spacy, becoming part of the elite Robotech Defense Force.
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

_NERIMA, JAPAN_

"Damnit, old man! How dare you decide my future this way?"

The young, red-haired girl jumped up from the cafe table and threw a punch at the older man seated across from her. Her Chinese clothing was overly loose on her, and it was obvious to any observer that she was not wearing a brassiere. The older man, dressed in a white gi, jumped up and dodged the punch. The cafe manager groaned as he considered how much damage was about to be inflicted on his restaurant.

"You've got no right whatsoever to pick my fiancee for me! Damnit, I've already joined the service!"

"Ranma, you idiot! What about your...little secret? You think they'll let you stay in with your curse?"

Ranma threw a kick at the older man, slamming him into the wall. "You think I was gonna tell them? Give me credit for brains at least, oyaji!"

The older man stood, a little unsteadily. "I did not raise you to be a master of the School of Unrestricted Grappling to see you waste your life in the JSDF."

"Who said anything about the Defense Force?" The girl did not let up on her attacks. "I'm joining U.N. Spacy!"

The older man grabbed the girl and smashed her into the wall, pinning her to it with his superior mass.

"Did you say...U.N. Spacy?"

"Yeah...And I've already been accepted and posted!"

"To...Macross Island?"

The girl seemed surprised. "Yeah...how did you know?"

The man released her, and she slid to the floor. He adjusted his glasses and scowled at her. "Ranma, I am still deeply grieved that you went behind my back in this affair. However, I will tell you now that the U.N. Spacy is the only military I would have allowed you to join."

"Oh? Why's that?" The girl stood, rubbing her neck. Already, a bruise was reddening around her throat.

"I cannot say. But if you truly do not wish to uphold your engagement, I shall so inform the Tendo family."

Ranma sighed. "Look, oyaji, I never said that I didn't want to get married, or meet family obligation. But I already have my career planned out, and getting married will only throw it out of whack. Not to mention I haven't seen my so-called 'fiancee' in seven years. When I get married, it'll be on my own time, when I decide to, to whom I decide.

"Sorry, oyaji, but you really should have thought this out beforehand. Just like with Jushenkyo."

"Hey, who's going to pay for this damage?"

Ranma grinned at the cafe manager. "He is!"

With one swing, she knocked her father on his ass and pulled out his wallet. She extracted a hefty sum in yen--far more than the cost of the repairs--and tossed it to the manager.

* * *


	2. 11: Valkyrie

**VALKYRIE**

The black-haired pig-tailed man approached the front gates of the U.N. Spacy base. He was dressed in the standard U.N. Spacy uniform (Male, temperate, long, casual). On the uniform's breast was the insignia of the Robotech Defense Force, opposite the name tag reading SAOTOME. On his lapel was a single silver bar.

A guard stepped out of the booth and approached him.

"Orders, sir?"

The young man pulled a sheaf of papers out of his duffle and handed them to the guard. The guard perused them for a moment, then nodded and handed them back to the lieutenant. "All right, sir. The shuttle departs in about half an hour. Docking Bay Five." Lieutenant Saotome had made himself quite popular with both enlisted men and officers; quite an accomplishment for such a young officer. Impulsively, the corporal bowed. "We'll miss you, sir."

"Thanks, Corporal. Take it easy."

Twenty minutes later, 2nd Lieutenant Saotome was strapped into an acceleration couch, awaiting takeoff. He grinned a bit; the old VC-37 Tunny transport aircraft had nothing like the acceleration he was used to. After a year of intensive training in the UF-14 Falcon Jet, his heavily muscled body was hardened against multiple G's.

He was looking forward to his new assignment. His basic training had been at Macross Base, as had his initial flight instruction. The last year he had spent at Kadena AFB, in OCS, dealing with foreigners and learning to fly the UF-14 Falcon. He considered the Falcon the last word in air power. Sleek and sexy, the multi-role fighter could engage in the worst furball, bomb an armoured column, conduct a supersonic recon mission, provide forward air control and serve as an ECM vehicle - all on the same warload. In his mind, no vehicle could possibly match, let alone exceed, the Falcon in versatility.

He had little idea how wrong he was shortly to be proven.

The Tunny's engines rose to a roar, and the big transport began to roll down the runway. The Tunny was capable of vertical takeoff and landing, but there was no need for such fuel-wasting manoeuvres at a full-scale airbase. Soon the Tunny lifted off and began to climb, slowly banking to the northwest.

Saotome Ranma leaned back, put his arms behind his head, and closed his eyes. He was going back to Macross. And his new assignment was exactly what he'd been hoping for - second in command of a Squadron.

Maybe he'd get a shot at command of the squadron before he was rotated out.

* * *

Saotome stepped out of the VC-37 and blinked in the harsh sunlight. The Tunny had deposited him on the far side of the Macross airbase, and he quickly jogged across the tarmac, duffel slung over his shoulder. There was a brisk wind, and he was grateful that the casual uniform did not include headgear. He'd been told he'd be met, but he saw no other officers. He didn't mind being met by an enlisted rate, but none seemed to be trying to get his attention, and anyway, fighter jocks were usually met by other fighter jocks.

He felt more than heard a pair of fighter aircraft pass overhead, and he paused as he reached the gate, looking up at them. The sounds of the engines were impossibly deep, shaking the tarmac beneath his feet. He watched the fighters pull off overhead, turning into the sun.

"Admiring the new jets?"

Saotome blinked, and looked at the man before him. Incredibly tall, lean, with blond hair rakishly pulled over one eye. A cocky grin sat naturally on his features. Two gold bars glittered on his lapel. He didn't see any wings, but he didn't have to.

_This guy's a fighter jock._

"They look okay, but they seem a bit slow compared to the Falcon."

"Oh, don't worry about that, Lieutenant. You'll grow to love them." The man's voice was jaunty, and his Japanese only lightly accented.

Saotome already had his orders produced, and handed them to the Captain. U.N. Spacy used English names for the ranks, despite the fact that it was supposed to be a bilingual force. The other man glanced at them, then began paging through his own clipboard.

"Second in Command for Blue, eh? Looks like you'll be flying in Valkyries after all. You qualified for Valkyrie operations yet?"

"No. I assumed that I would be flying Falcons. They didn't tell me anything about Valkyries."

"Well, they probably wouldn't, the Valkyrie is still incredibly classified. I see you have Lieutenant Geroux listed as your flight instructor. Take my advice, file for a new instructor. Geroux is a good pilot, but his English is rotten, and his Japanese non-existent. Makes it hard to learn from him."

"Who do I see to file for a new instructor?"

"Me." The blond man extended his hand, then withdrew it quickly. "Sorry." He bowed, then said, "Captain Roy Fokker, Commander, Air Group, Macross Island. Pleased to meet you."

"Saotome Ranma, Lieutenant. Pleased to meet you." Saotome returned the bow.

"Now then...as to your new instructor...might as well be me." Fokker grinned. "I don't get nearly enough air-time as it is. Trust me, once you get used to the Valkyrie, you'll never go back to the Falcon."

* * *

Roy pulled the forward cockpit's service ladder down. "The first thing we'll cover is the gross motor controls."

"Gross motor controls? Hey, what about the flight manual?"

"Oh, you'll get that, but I've always held that it's better with this particular bird to get hands-on experience first."

"And if I screw up, and flame us out, or do something else stupid?"

"Don't worry, it's actually really hard to crash a Valkyrie by accident." He waved towards the ladder. "So hop in."

Ranma shrugged, and scrambled up the ladder. He sat down in the front office of the bird, and looked over the instruments. Roy climbed up after him, leaned over the edge of the canopy flaring.

"Now then, the gross motor controls. In this configuration, the right hand stick acts as your yoke, and the left hand stick as your throttle. The foot pedals act as a combination rudder control and vectored thrust control."

"Why manual control for vectoring?"

"This bird's been made deliberately computer-light. More on that shortly. You feel the trigger under your right finger? That fires the main gun. GU-11 external gun pod, fifty-five mike, fires about three thousand rounds per minute. A little on the slow side, if you ask me. But of course, they didn't. You've got about a thousand rounds in the gun, plus an additional two thousand in re-loadable clips."

"Reloadable how?"

"Trust me, you'll love this. Now then, see this switch? Primary arming mechanism. Selects one of nine firm points. You've got four soft points on the wings, two on the fuselage. This unit's configured light. Twelve GR-30 Jackhammer medium range missiles. So firm points three and seven - the fuselage points - are clear. Jettison button's here. If you select point four and jettison, you can kiss your gun goodbye. Select five or six and jettison, and you'll get an error message from Betty.

"Primary powerplants are two FF-2001 fusion engines. Your engine instrument clusters are here and here."

"They look just like the Falcon's."

"Yeah, the bean counters figured it would save us money. Didn't help a hell of a lot, except for training purposes. Remember, though, that the Falcon is a single-pipe bird, not a dual. So keep your eyes on both instrument clusters. Here's your third engine cluster."

"Ah...Captain, I don't recognise any of these instruments."

"It's covered in the manual. The third engine is strictly a powerplant, doesn't produce any thrust."

"Seems kind of inefficient, if you ask me."

"Again, the designers didn't ask you. Trust me, the bird needs the spare powerplant. Don't worry about it now. I'll have duplicate instruments in the back seat. Flip up that lid. Right. That's your missile pickle. It will only release when a pylon is armed. Flip up that other cover, on the throttle. That one controls the laser turret." Fokker grinned. "The turret is on the underbelly, just behind the seat. It tracks to your helmet gyro. You have to select firm point five with the Primary Arm, then pickle that left button once. That brings the laser online. There's another trigger on the throttle; that fires paired high-power laser cannon, one mounted on each engine nacelle, just below the wing glove.

"Now we come to the important part. See those three levers on the left console, just before the throttle?"

"Yeah...S, G, F. What are they for?"

"Manual configuration controls. They allow you to reconfigure the airplane in flight. Not actually necessary, but nice for a newbie. Which you are. Don't touch 'em until I say so. Here's your skull bucket."

Saotome caught the helmet Fokker pitched at him. "Uh, this isn't my helmet. Just a second and I'll grab it, it's in my duffel."

"Your old helmet will be completely worthless in this bird. That one's yours now. You can customise it later. Put these on."

Saotome caught the gloves. They seemed over-sized and bulky, and had leads trailing from the cuffs.

"Plug the gloves in here and here, on the HOTAS."

He put his gloves on, plugged them in, and was surprised to feel the faint vibration of gyros spooling up in them. He glanced at the HOTAS, and found the calibration controls for the glove gyros. He donned the new helmet, adjusted it for fit, plugged it in and calibrated its gyros as well.

"A lot of these controls are from the Falcon or the Tomcat." He glanced up, noticed Fokker strapping himself in in the back seat.

"Yeah, there's enough new tricks with this bird to keep anyone on his toes. Some of the old tricks are there to stave off helmet fire. Heads up; I'm dropping the canopy."

Two technicians completed the jet's pre-flight, and Roy powered up the jet's fusion engines.

"Okay, listen, Saotome, here's where it gets weird. This airplane is not just piloted; it's lived."

The jet taxied to the runway, then accelerated to takeoff.

"The helmet and gloves you're wearing are studded with sensors and electrodes. It knows what you want the bird to do before you do. In addition, there's the reflex energy cells. That third powerplant. Reflex energy gives the bird the ability to bind with the pilot. But it's not something that's easily done."

The jet was now over the water. Saotome glanced at the instruments in front of him. The Valkyrie was just supersonic, and fairly close to the deck.

"If, and I mean _if_, you can get the bird to figure out what's going on in your puny little brain, you get a whole new level of control. You see with the Valkyrie's sensors, in addition to your own. You can feel the wind under your wings. And you can fly like you were born to it."

Ranma grinned. This sounded too good! He closed his eyes...

"_No, dammit!_ Keep those eyes open!"

He snapped his eyes open. And tried to see, with the radar.

He had it! He could sense things further away than he could see, and he could feel the jet responding to Roy's piloting, but at a far more instinctive level. He felt the wind at his face as the jet pulled up, cutting through the clouds, reaching for altitude.

"I'm giving you control. Feel her out, Saotome."

"Front seat has the airplane."

"Pilot's airplane."

And the jet was his. A light nudge with the yoke, and he could feel the elevons shift, sending the fighter into a light bank. He pulled it into a broad turn, monitoring his heading on the Heads-Up-Display.

He grinned, and deliberately tuned out the HUD. Instead, he simply called off the heading to himself as he turned. When he glanced up at the HUD, he was pleased to see that he had properly tracked the heading.

Roy grinned to himself. He was monitoring the kid's Delta and Alpha waves on his instruments. This kid was good! He'd already sublimated the bird to his will. Completely azended.

"You a martial artist, kid?"

"Yeah...Saotome School of Anything Goes."

"Really. Sounds neat. You martial artists tend to have an easier time merging with the plane."

"Any idea why?"

"Probably because a martial artist, of any sort, maintains a different mindset in combat than an untrained combatant. Ready to get really wild?"

"Uh, sure."

"Pull the lever marked G."

Ranma reached forward, and pulled the manual reconfiguration lever. Suddenly, the aircraft lost a lot of speed. Roy glanced out the cockpit and saw the arms extending, the G-Pod held in the right hand.

"What the hell?"

Roy grinned. "You like? We call this configuration Gerwalk. It was originally designed for vertical takeoff and landing only, but we've found some nice uses for it."

"This is...impossible."

"No, this is Robotechnology. Watch and learn. Back seat has control."

"Uh...Copilot's airplane."

Under Fokker's expert hand, the now-reconfigured jet shot back towards Macross Island.

"In this configuration, the Valkyrie performs basically still like a fighter. But this is where the mental link with the pilot becomes very important. The rudders are gone, folded up on the back. Your foot-pedals now control the legs. Direct elevon control is also gone; your yoke and throttle control the arms.

"You'll note that the gun pod is in the right hand. The left hand can carry and fire the GU-11, but you have no manual controls to do so. The only way you can fire it is through direct manipulation. The G-Pod also reconfigures; it now has a trigger." Roy grinned. In fact, the yoke trigger was now disconnected. Pulling it just gave the pilot the psychosomatic reaction of pulling the GU- 11's trigger with the mecha's hand. But he wasn't about to tell a newbie that.

"So without controls, how do I fly the jet?"

"Same way you were before. Just go where you want to. You actually don't really need the gross motor controls; they just make your life easier. For fine motor controls, like the hands, you rely on your link to the bird and your sensor studded gloves."

The Valkyrie was slipping between buildings on Macross Island. Ranma noted that the buildings were obviously fake.

"This is a live-fire range. You won't be making use of it today, but I'll give you a bit of a demonstration. Armoured column at ten o'clock."

The Valkyrie's right leg leaned out, and the fighter spun on a dime. The large rifle in the right hand came up, and barked four times. Four tanks went up in flames. As the Valkyrie passed overhead, the laser turret on the underside opened up, both beams striking and destroying a fifth tank.

"All of that was done much the same way you'd do it if you were physically holding the rifle. Except the laser turret. That's a hard one to learn right away. You'll find you're really glad for those pickles. Pull the S lever."

Saotome did so, and was amazed to feel the jet shift under him again.

"Welcome to Soldier mode. In this configuration, the Valkyrie is fully humanoid and can perform as such. Your missiles and high-powered lasers are disabled, but the head lasers are still active. What do you think?"

There was no answer from the forward--now top--cockpit. Roy grinned. This boy was hooked.


	3. 12: Enigma

**ENIGMA**

"That was incredible! You were right, the Valkyrie is a lot more advanced than the Falcon. And it handles sweet!"

"You don't fly mecha, you wear it." Fokker grinned, then gestured at the ship, visible outside the restaurant's window. "Nearly impossible to recognize the old girl, isn't it?"

"Actually, I don't recognize her at all." Ranma considered the spacecraft, then smacked a fist down in his palm. "Wait! Isn't that the alien ship that crashed? The one that put an end to the Global Civil War?"

"Yep. We're just about done rebuilding her. You did boot here, and you didn't recognise the visitor?"

"I was on the other side of that mountain."

"Oh, right. Forgot you can't see the ship from that side."

They were interrupted by the arrival of the waitress. "Hello, can I take your order?"

Ranma glanced up at the girl. She was young and quite pretty, and seemed somewhat out of place in the Chinese robe she was wearing. _Probably as out of place as I look in my own Chinese garb,_ he mused. "Uh, sure. Combo Plates Three and Six."

"I'll have just two egg rolls." Roy leered up at her. "You busy after work?"

"For you, Roy...yes." She grinned and left.

Roy grinned at Ranma. "Not that I really want to catch her...she's jailbait. Of course, you're a fair bit younger."

"Not for me, thanks. I'm engaged."

"Really? Congrats. What does she think of you being posted here?"

"Uh...I dunno. It's an arranged marriage. I haven't even met her yet."

"Oh! They still do that kind of thing?"

"Only in traditional families. Like mine, and, I assume, hers."

"What's her name?"

"Her name's Akane. Apparently my father and her father engaged us before we were even born. I was supposed to meet her about five years ago, but five years ago was the first I heard of it."

"Oh. Well, good luck with it and all."

"Yeah..."

"You don't sound very enthusiastic."

"Why should I be? I mean, I've never met her, and if her family has to go and engage her against her will--not to mention, mine--she can't be worth much."

"Pretty harsh on her considering you've never met her."

Ranma sighed. "I just wish that maybe they'd talked to me about it. I can only imagine that she's got no clue."

"So if you're so against it, why are you even bothering to worry about it? You're over the age of seventeen; all you gotta do is say no."

"But it's a matter of family honour - _giri_ - and so I can't just dismiss it," grumbled Ranma. "I gotta do the right thing."

"Sucks to have a conscience. That's why I never bothered with one. Well, maybe I can bring this conversation back to a more positive note."

"Can't be too hard," Ranma snickered.

"I want you transferred to my squadron. You're damn good, kid, and Skull Squadron is for the best. Now if you're really set on being Two-I-See for Blue, I won't push it--"

"Are you kidding? I don't know what the hell the Detailer was thinking. There's no way I could take even a second position in a squadron! I just don't know these jets well enough."

"Give it time. When I think you're ready for it, I'll push you into a full squadron command slot."

The waitress returned, carrying their orders.

* * *

Ranma climbed out of the Valkyrie, sweat dripping off his forehead and speed jeans plastered to his body. It was incredibly hot, and being cramped into the Valkyrie's cockpit was no fun.

Well, the flying was fun. But for such a large airplane, the cockpit was small, and the air-conditioning was scanty at best.

He had been at Macross for three months now, and had mastered all three modes of the Valkyrie. He despaired of ever becoming as skilled as Roy, who seemed to wear the mecha like a tuxedo, but he considered himself the equal - or better - of anyone else on the island.

Roy walked towards him from the direction of his own Valkyrie. The two had been playing hide and seek in the firing range, both in Gerwalk and Soldier Mode. Roy had proven to be a master of stealth in the Valkyrie. Ranma had only successfully haloed him once, but it seemed that his own RWR was pinging him constantly. And he had learned the hard way why the pilots referred to the on-board computer's irritating voice as "Bitching Betty."

"Not bad, kid. I've not had a challenge in quite some time. Good news, by the way. The new cockpits are being shipped in today. The technicians will start retro-fitting the Valkyries tomorrow. With the exception of the D model, that is." He grinned. "Just think. No more jury-rigged instruments, no more thirty thousand foot ceiling, and no more sweating off a gallon in the tank."

"I am definitely looking forward to it."

"Oh, and more good news. We've got a new Commander Air Group."

"Huh? They replaced you?"

"Not really. Island's fighter complement has gone way up, and they're putting me just in charge of Skull, instead of Skull, Blue, Red and Green Squadrons. Six new squadrons being formed, so they decided they needed a full bird to be CAG. So they brought in an old war hero. This guy's been flying since 1994, and he saw service completely through the Global Civil War. Hell, I once flew with him. He's good."

"Better than you?"

"Don't be silly. Funny thing is, though, I thought he retired some time back."

"I couldn't stay away from the flying."

"Sir!" Roy saluted the man who had just spoken.

"At ease. Good to see you again, Roy."

Ranma appraised the man. He was tall, though still shorter than Fokker, and his hair was much longer than regulation. U.N. Spacy went a lot easier than JSDF on hair, but this guy had hair to the middle of his back. He sported a neatly trimmed moustache. A golden eagle perched on his lapel. Below it was the insignia of the U.N. Spacy. Opposite that was the name Tendo.

Ranma started. Tendo? Wasn't that the name of the family he was engaged to marry into?

The Colonel glanced at Ranma. "Lieutenant Saotome, is it?" His greeting to Roy was English, but he switched to Japanese to address Ranma. "Your father spoke to me about your calling off your engagement."

Ranma winced. This was hardly the time or place for this sort of discussion.

"Um. Sir, I did not call off the engagement."

"Oh?"

"Uh, no sir. I merely stated that I was not ready for marriage at that time."

"I see."

An uncomfortable silence grew between the two men. Roy decided to break it.

"Ah, guys? Let's go over to the Dragon for something to eat, why don't we?"

* * *

"You are engaged to the daughter of the Colonel?"

The two pilots, having left Soun Tendo at the Dragon, were returning to the Bachelor Officer Quarters. Roy was shaking his head, partly in disgust, partly in amusement.

"You watch, you'll have your own command before you know it. Probably be working as a test pilot within two years. Man, you are on easy street!"

"If you did not notice, the Colonel seemed less than pleased with me."

"Yeah, but still, you're like family to him, right?"

"In a way. But--"

"I'll drop it, Saotome. I can take a hint." Roy grinned. "I saw a picture of the Colonel's family once. His wife was really pretty. I bet that his daughter takes after her."

Ranma scowled. "I thought you were going to drop this subject?"

"Okay, okay...By the way, you've drawn Hendrikkson for Destroid Training. Thought about what way you're going with them?"

The Destroids were large, non-reconfigurable mecha. They were less humanoid than a Soldier-Mode Valkyrie, but each packed more firepower than a company of tanks.

"Yeah, the Spartan. It's basically similar to the Soldier Mode Valkyrie. More weapons and armour, but less mobility. But it's the closest there is."

"Yeah, I did Spartan myself, and Tomahawk."

"I don't like the looks of the Tomahawk, it's tooOOF!"

Ranma, upon rounding the corner, had collided with another person. Both were knocked down. Ranma shook his head and stood slowly.

"Clumsy oaf!"

"Huh?"

Ranma looked at the person he had collided with. It was a Japanese girl, rather short, with long hair. She was dressed in a jogging fleece set, and was scowling at him from the ground.

"Sorry 'bout this. I should have been watching where I was going." He held out a hand to help her up.

She ignored it. Her scowl deepened. She stood and glared at him, then resumed her jogging.

"What a wonderful, cheerful person. Such a marvellous personality." Roy glanced in her general direction. "Nice ass, too."

"Whatever."

* * *

He saw the girl the next day, in the chow line.

"Hi."

She looked over at him. The scowl returned.

"Look, I'm sorry for running into you yesterday."

The scowl remained.

"Uh...you weren't hurt or anything, were you?"

"Let me make this simple for you, fly-boy. I'm not interested."

"_Huh?_"

"You guys seem to think that just because you're wearing a uniform means that all the girls will just come flocking to you."

"NO! I mean, I think you've got the wrong idea! About me, that is. I'm engaged! I'm just trying to be friendly!"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah! Calm down already, okay?"

She glared at him for a moment more, then seemed to deflate.

"All right. I'm sorry for being so mad at you. But I've been hit on by almost every guy since I came on base."

"Ah. Are you U.N. Spacy?"

"No, but my dad is. He's posted here."

"Oh. So that's why you're here."

"On base?"

"More specifically, in the chow line." He held out his tray, and the cook dropped some so-called food on it. "Of course, you could eat at the Dragon, rather than here."

"Can't afford it tonight. Normally my sister handles the cooking, but she's sick, and Dad doesn't get paid until tomorrow. But him and his family get meal rations like anyone else. Normally, it's put into fresh food, and Kasumi cooks."

They had reached the table, and sat down opposite one another.

"Can't you cook?"

She glowered at him, then relaxed. "I'm...not very good." She looked down, and picked at her food.

"Oh."

"So, what's your name?"

"Saotome Ranma. And you?"

-CLATTER-

He looked up, and saw that she'd gone pale as a ghost. Her fork had dropped out of her hand and landed on the floor.

"I...I've gotta go...nice meeting you."

And she was gone.

Ranma frowned. "What the hell...?"

* * *

"Hi, Minmei!"

"Hi yourself, Saotome!"

Ranma dropped into the booth bench in his customary corner. Roy dropped into the seat across from him. Normally, they shared this booth with two other pilots from Skull, but today it was just him and Roy. Ranma had just completed a series of complex manoeuvres as part of the Launch Day Celebrations. Roy had run into an old friend as well, a young man he had referred to as "Little Brother". Despite the fact that Rick Hunter was half Japanese, and not even related to Roy. Rick was a good pilot though, and had paced Ranma's Valkyrie in his little turbofan airplane.

"The usual?"

"Yep."

"Sorry, I'm off today. I'm going to catch the rest of the show!"

She ran out the door.

Roy chuckled. "One of these days she's gonna make a really good waitress...but she ain't there yet." He tossed a thumbs-up to Ranma. "You did shit-hot out there today, kid. But when did you forget to check six? Rick coulda shot you down if he'd had a gun on that firecracker of his."

Ranma shrugged. "I saw him. He was obviously no threat, so I kept formation."

"Yeah, right. More likely you were just taken by surprise. Rick's the only guy I know brave enough to put solid rocket boosters on a fan jet. Oh, I got your performance evaluation from Hendrikksen on your Destroid training. He says he might have a spot for you in the Third Armoured Cavalry if you ever get bored with Valkyries."

Ranma snorted. As if a fighter pilot would ever condescend to join a mud-mover brigade. "No thanks. I like the Skull far too much. Especially now that I'm a flight leader."

"It ain't official yet, hot shot. Not until Hayes clears it. But I think you got it made. I've been polishing Kramer for his own command for a while now."

Ranma looked up as another figure dropped into the seat next to Roy. Roy glanced at the older man sitting next to him. "Sorry, old-timer. That seat's reserved for Skull Squadron pilots only."

Ranma grinned. "He can sit there, Roy. Hey, Pop. How's it going?"

"I am well, son."

"This is your father?"

"Yeah. Roy Fokker, this is Saotome Genma. Father, my commanding officer and best friend, Captain Roy Fokker."

Roy bowed. As best he could from a seated position.

"You're Ranma's CO? The legendary Roy Fokker?"

Ranma's eyes shot through to his hairline. "Waddaya mean, legendary? Something you're not telling me, sir?"

Roy grinned. "Well, I kinda led the first mission into the visitor."

The elder Saotome grinned. "Yes...I was also on that mission."

"Really? Oh, yeah, now I remember you! I didn't recognize you without hair." Fokker grinned at Ranma. "You're lucky, kid. Your old man is the only one besides me and Lang that got out of that alive."

"Pop? You, in the military? In the Global Civil War?"

"Yes, I was part of the Japan Self Defence Force, Marine Division. I was posted to the Kaneda. Damnedest thing you ever saw. We had a Russian Captain, an American CAG -" he gestured at Roy "- My CO in the marines was Japanese, the Chief Engineer was British and the Scientific Envoy was German. All five of the major powers from World War II, on one boat."

"Hey, Genma. Captain Gloval's been put in command of the Macross."

"Really? He runs a very tight ship. He's a good choice for that thing."

Roy chuckled. "Yep. And Emile Lang is still around as well. Always thought that was a damn silly name for a German."

"I think his family originally came from Belgium, in Flanders."

The bells above the door rang. Roy glanced up, then gestured across the room. "There's your mystery girl again, Saotome."

Ranma looked over, and sure enough, there was the girl. She had just stepped into the White Dragon, but upon spotting Ranma, turned and fled. Ranma had seen her three times in the last month. Once in the chow line again, once at the Dragon, and once in the shopping district. Each time, he had tried approaching her, but she had run off. Usually insulting him as she ran.

Genma had turned and looked to the door. "Oh, her?"

Ranma looked up. "You know her?"

"Yes. Actually--"

"Whoa. What the heck?" Ranma was looking out the window at the Macross. The ship's prow was splitting apart, two massive cams rotating twin booms away from each other. Moments later, energy started to crackle between the two booms.

Roy glanced up. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me. If they fire that gun right now--!"

A flood of energy blasted away from the ship with a thunderous roar. The beam tore through the mountainside, and leaped skyward as it pulled away from the curve of the earth. It took less than five seconds after the sound of the main gun died away before the air raid sirens started up.

"Oh, damn. Kid, they're playing our song. Nice to meet you again, Genma, but get to a shelter."

The two pilots jumped and ran from the restaurant.


	4. 13: Invasion

**INVASION**

"Skull Alpha Flight, we are tracking three inbound bogeys at Angels three zero. Your vector for intercept is zero eight five for sixty. Do not fire unless fired upon. We are vectoring Bravo and Charlie flights your way."

"Affirm, base. Skull Flight, come to zero eight five and buster. Skull Six. Close it up. You're drifting to right."

"Sorry, Skull Leader."

"Go active."

"I've got contact. They're at Angels two five now, and I think they're launching small craft."

"I see them, Four. Range is fifty three. Arm Jackhammers, but do not launch."

"Two."

"Three."

"Four."

"Five." Ranma depressed the Master Arm ring, turned it one hundred and eighty degrees, and released it. The Master Arm light flicked on. He. grabbed his missile-arm control and armed stations one, two, eight and nine. The left-side VDU confirmed: twelve Jackhammer missiles armed and tracking.

"Six."

"RWR warning! Lead, the enemy are using active radar. Microwave radar, looks like J-band."

"Jammers on."

The A-type Valkyrie didn't carry very powerful jammers, but with six aircraft in their formation - one of them the advanced S-type - enough white noise was pumped into J-band to shroud the entire Flight.

"Enemy have launched missiles, Lead."

"Roger that, Three. Skull, pop chaff and flare. Base, we have incoming missiles, request clearance to fire."

"Skull, you are cleared hot."

"Roger, Base. Skull. Range is forty six. Launch Jackhammers."

"Fox two!"

The six Valkyries emptied their pylons of the Jackhammer missiles. Each Valkyrie's battle computer interfaced with Skull Leader's, directing every launched missile to a unique target. The GR-30 Jackhammer was a semi-active radar homing missile, but instead of a conventional warhead, the missile carried four short-range heat-seeking rockets. Upon reaching a certain range from the target, or if a missile failed to guide properly, the Jackhammer would fire off its heat-seekers, each of which would seek out and target any heat source in the area.

Not a weapon for use in dogfighting; the Jackhammer was designed to be used _en masse_ to render an entire block of the sky denied to enemy aircraft.

"Impact in twelve. Eleven. Ten..."

"Vee Tee One Oh Two. Why are you still grounded?" That was Lieutenant Commander Hayes, over the general Tac freak.

The voice that responded was unfamiliar to Ranma. "Huh? I, uh, I think there's been some mistake. I'm not supposed to be here."

"You're right, you're supposed to be up there. Get airborne, now."

"Um, Okay, if you insist..."

"Five seconds. Oh, fuck. Ah, Saotome, take lead. I've gotta go help out a friend."

"Uh, Yes sir. Five has lead."

"Two."

"Three."

"Four."

"Six."

Roy's Valkyrie peeled off and headed back to the island. Saotome's battle computer took up the missile load. The machine twitched at the extra load, but managed to keep up with the real-time data.

"Impact!"

"Confirmed. I have multiple detonations."

Ahead of them, the sky turned molten as over a hundred warheads detonated. Ranma checked his radar.

"Ah, there's still lots of them. I estimate about sixty kills from that salvo. Three and Four. Shift to Gerwalk. The rest of you get ready to tango. Two lead Six."

"Two."

"Three."

"Four."

"Six."

And the furball was on. There were literally hundreds of the alien fighter pods. Tactical computer had come up with nothing on them; they were fighting blind.

Ranma pulled the Valkyrie all over the sky, using high-powered lasers, laser turret and tri-barrelled cannon on pod after pod. The alien fighters were remarkably poorly armed and armoured. Although their nose guns could--and did--make hash out of the Valkyries.

"Four's hit. I've gotta break off--"

"Four, punch out. Four! Dammit, Archer--"

"Skull Squadron Bravo and Charlie Flights are inbound."

"Affirm, Base."

Ranma's gun ran dry, and he shifted to Gerwalk to jam another clip home. Without changing configuration, he spun and blasted six pods one after another.

Then one of the aliens got lucky and tagged his wing.

The left wing was sheared off at the halfway point. Ranma's Valkyrie lost too much lift to remain at his current altitude. He shifted back to fighter mode, attempting to use raw thrust to compensate for the lost wing segment, but the fighter was listing badly to port. He could maintain altitude and be a target, or...

"Damn! Two, take lead, I have to break off."

"Two has lead."

Ranma allowed his Valkyrie to drop towards the island, reconfiguring again to Gerwalk mode. He saw the giant Super Dimensional Fortress struggling to lift off as he dropped into the city.

_This ain't the range,_ he reminded himself. _People have to live here when we're done._

"Skull Flight, one of the enemy drop-shuttles has gotten past you." Instead of Hayes, it was Lieutenant Grant on the Tac Freak. Ranma had worked with the young woman on several drills, and was impressed with her professionalism. "It appears to have landed in the water. Break off and prepare to defend the city."

"Roger that, Lieutenant." Roy was back on the Tac Net. "All right, ladies, you heard the Lieutenant. Let's go play, shall we?"

Ranma watched as the remainder of Skull Squadron dropped into the city and reconfigured to Soldier Mode. Ranma kept one eye on his scopes and one on the Tac Display.

The small craft, whatever it was, had hit the water to the west of Macross Island. The SDF-1 had dispatched a Comanche attack helicopter to recon the site. In addition, the Sixth Cavalry had been rushed to the beach, in case the enemy decided to come ashore. Sixth was a light unit, consisting of four Spartan close-combat Destroids, two Tomahawk support Destroids, and six Defender anti-aircraft Destroids.

Ranma tapped the Tac Net, and dialled for the Comanche's freak.

"We're approaching the drop zone...No sign of the intruder."

"Keep your eyes peeled." Lieutenant Commander Hayes, again.

"Ah, roger that. Ah, something's breaking the surface. Looks like some kind of pod. Ah...Oh hell. Base, we are under att--"

"Eyes Front, come in. Come in, Eyes Front!"

Ranma's Tac Display lit up.

"Base to Skull Squadron. Expect company. Western edge of the island."

No response from Roy.

"Skull Leader, report in."

"Ah, Skull Leader. I've got a bit of a problem here. Five, do you still have lead?"

"Passed it to Two when I was forced to break off."

"Don't do that. Five, take Lead."

"Ah, Roger. Five has Lead."

"Two."

"Three."

"Six."

"Kramer, how's your flight?"

"We've been better, Roy. And Jackson's still upstairs. They're latched but good."

"Damn. Ranma. Go play hide and seek."

"Yes sir. Skull, move out."

Ranma glanced at the Tac Net. A total of eight Soldier Mode Valkyries, from both Fokker's flight and Kramer's flight, made up the portion of the Skull under his command. The group made their way further into the city.

"Vampire! Vampire!"

"Whose call was that?"

"Base, this is Sixth Lead. We're at the beach, and the enemy is coming ashore. They've launched multiple vampires." Vampire was the call-sign for surface-attack guided missiles. "We've engaged them, and the Defenders are doin' a number on them, but we're gonna have some leakers."

"Roger that. Skull, state your position."

Ranma clicked his mike. "Base, we are two miles east of Sixth."

"Roger that. Be advised there are vampires inbound on your position."

"Base, roger that. Skull, keep your eyes peeled. Go to FLIR if you've got it."

"Two."

"Three."

"Six."

"Vampire!"

Ranma trained the gun pod up and snapped off a short burst, destroying the missile. He glanced down at his FLIR display. "I read eleven more missiles over our position. Engage and destroy." He triggered his head laser, and slagged down another missile. Around him, the Skull pilots were opening up on the missile flight, one yelling "Pull!" before blasting a missile. Ranma grinned, then clicked his mike. "Base, we knocked down seven more for you."

"Roger that, Skull. Fourth Cavalry, stand by for intercept."

Not that Fourth could do much about missiles. It was mostly composed of Phalanx and Tomahawk Destroids.

"Saotome. I'm passing what's left of my command over to you."

"Roger that, Kramer. You're Five. Fill in my gaps."

"Roger. Four, Seven and Eight are yours."

"Bogey! Bogey at eleven--"

Ranma pivoted and haloed the pod. The alien Mecha looked remarkably like a headless ostrich, except for the two large cannons on the carapace that tracked towards his Mecha...

Ranma ducked the Valkyrie as the guns unleashed twin blasts of glowing blue energy, then hosed the target down with his GU-11. The alien proved to be as flimsy as the fighter pods, and went down in seconds. The gun pod spun on empty, and Ranma ejected the clip.

"Thanks, Three. Confirm unidentified pod-type mecha as hostile bandits. Move ahead."

"Roger."

Ranma dug out his last clip and jammed it home. "I'm on my last. How are y'all doing?"

"Two's got one left."

"Three's empty."

"Four's got two."

"Five's got one, and four Scorpions."

"Six has two."

"Seven has one."

"Eight has one."

"Damn." At least the Scorpions were good news. The nasty little short-range missiles were carried in packs of two, one pack on each arm. They were still being beta-tested, but already the techs were talking about making them standard-issue. "Six, toss one of your spare clips to Three. Base. What are the odds of us getting some heavy metal in here?"

"Roger that, Skull Leader. Fourth Cavalry will be dispatched to your location."

"Hear that, guys? Let's keep 'em busy until the Destroids get here."

The Valkyries began to play a deadly game of cat and mouse with the alien Battle Pods. Valkyries would pop out of alleys, step around corners or fire from hiding places in buildings. Ranma's GU-11 ran dry quickly, and he was forced to go hand to hand.

Luckily, his martial arts translated very well into Mecha combat. A well-placed punch, right through the viewport of a Battle Pod, knocked it right out of the fight. A second Pod spotted the take-down and stampeded in his direction. He ducked behind a building, waited until the Battle Pod rounded the corner, and clotheslined it. It flipped end for end comically, legs flailing, and he worked it with the Valkyrie's steel boots.

More were approaching, six of them at once; he shifted to Gerwalk and jetted around behind a building, riding a carpet of plasma as the thrusters burned straight into the pavement. He dropped down, reconfigured again to Soldier mode, and glanced around for his next target.

He never even saw the Battle Pod that got the drop on him, blasting away most of his left leg. The crippled Valkyrie dropped to its side, and Ranma panicked. He reached overhead for the eject handle, but paused when he realized that punching out would put him through the building behind his head. He watched as the pod closed in for the kill...

And was demolished by a long-range particle cannon blast.

Ranma whooped, and patched into the Tac Net. "Fourth Lead, this is Skull Leader. Welcome to the front line. Skull Five, my Valkyrie is toast and I am out of this fight. You've got lead. And the Cavalry has arrived."

"Amen, brother."

Ranma popped the cockpit and dragged himself out of the Valkyrie. He looked at it sadly and shook his head. The fighter would never fly again.

There was a sound of metal on metal, and the blasted Battle Pod began to stir.

Ranma panicked again. He backed away from the pod.

The pod's main hatch opened, and the occupant emerged. He looked remarkably human, save for the bluish tinge on his skin, and the fact that he was thirty feet tall.

Ranma had been on board the Macross. He'd seen the skeletons, and the powered armour suits. He'd seen the living quarters, twin to his own, but ten times larger in scale. He knew exactly why the Valkyrie had been given its twenty meter tall Soldier Mode.

He knew about the Giants.

But all of this had not prepared him for the sheer emotional shock. It's one thing to stand before an elephant or a rhino, and know that the creature was strong, that it could crush the life from you with little or no effort. It's emotionally acceptable, to see an orca or a blue whale, and to know that humankind is puny and weak compared to such as these.

It's another thing entirely to see a creature, equally the size of an elephant, but standing on two legs, eyes mirroring the intelligence behind them. A creature that cannot be 'it'.

Ranma swallowed, and reached for his sidearm. _For all the good it'll do me,_ he mused.

The Giant seemed not to notice him, however. Instead, he simply staggered up to the fallen Valkyrie and gave it a good swift kick.

"Hey! That's my plane!"

Ranma realized a bit late that it was a bad idea to get a Giant's attention. The alien turned and drew a sidearm.

Kramer's head laser blew the Giant's chest out from the back. It fell, a shocked look on its face, and Ranma had to jump to avoid being crushed.

Kramer dropped his spent GU-11, and picked the Giant's sidearm up in one metal fist. His voice boomed out over the Valkyrie's external speakers. "Good, I was running on empty. You owe me, Saotome. Get your ass to a bomb shelter now."

* * *

"Take us down! Right to the deck!"

"Aye sir!"

The Super Dimensional Fortress had launched in an attempt to battle the alien armada that had encircled Earth. However, a salvo from one of the alien battlewagons had crippled her, and she was forced to break off. Now she was attempting to put the bulk of the planet between her and the fleet.

"Sir, I read one alien ship, medium sized, probably a cruiser. It is closing on this location. Bearing Three Forty Nine, Azimuth Twelve."

"Damn! Program a Fold from here to Lagrange Two."

"Sir, the Fold system is untested."

"Get ready to test it. We need altitude for this. Helm. Positive Z, fifty meters per second."

"I can give you thirty..."

"Good enough."

"Sir, alien cruiser is firing."

The dimensional fortress shook as it was struck by the enemy vessel's guns.

"Fire main gun."

"Sir, the Reflex Cannon is still off-line."

"Engage the Fold system. Now!"

"Sir, Macross Island is in range of--"

"Now, dammit! While we still have time!"

Space warped around the ship.

* * *

"**He's insane!**"

The Commander of the alien fleet gaped at the view-screen before him.

"**He's attempting a space fold while in atmosphere!**"

* * *

A massive bubble of space/time distortion rippled across the Macross, and the massive Dimensional Fortress vanished.

"Fold Operation complete."

Gloval sat back in his seat. "Bozhe Moi."

"Sir." Sammy Porter adjusted her glasses, staring at the screen above her. "I am detecting a large mass directly below us."

"Were we followed?"

"No, sir. It's Macross Island..."


	5. 14: Shelter

**SHELTER**

The blast shelter was airtight.

Ranma was very glad of this fact.

There had been considerable noise outside the shelter, until about six hours ago. Ranma had been inside the shelter for less than five minutes when...something...had occurred. The entire shelter seemed to go out of focus, sounds echoing weirdly, colours shifting in strange patterns. Everyone started to rise off the floor, as though the shelter was falling. Then, all noise had ceased. Not even the sound of wind, or the omnipresent hum of the generators reached inside the shelter.

The people continued to float, however. Zero gravity. There had been several cases so far of dropsickness, but they were starting to settle in.

The power had gone out, and the shelter had gone completely dark. Eventually, someone had found the controls and tried putting the shelter's backup generator on-line, but had had no luck. The generator turned over, but refused to start.

The generator was located outside the shelter.

There was a tertiary power supply, a set of Reflex energy cells. Ranma had brought these on-line, and that gave them limited lights in the shelter. It also brought the external viewers on-line.

All the viewers showed was the star-studded blackness of space, the frozen land all around them, and the Macross hanging over them. Valkyries and Battle Pods continued to fight silently in the city, skidding unpredictably on the frost that covered every surface.

Ranma wanted to pace. Nervousness made every muscle twitch with restrained energy, but he could not pace. Not in zero gee. With the Reflex cells powering life support, they could survive in here for quite some time. There was enough food for a thousand people for six months. With only four hundred or so in the shelter, that would last much longer than the best projected time for the air purifiers.

Now all they had to do was to hope that the Valkyries could defeat the remaining Battle Pods. Then maybe the Macross could launch some sort of rescue operation.

A rather large, heavyset man in a Hawaiian T-shirt drifted up to Ranma.

"Hey, Lieutenant. You're the ranking officer here, right?"

"Uh, I guess so. Only other U.N. Spacy personnel here are junior enlisteds."

"Good. Listen, this sort of situation, the military's supposed to be in control."

Ranma remembered who the man was. "Uh. Mr. Mayor, I think you give the orders in this situation. I mean, I'm just a Second Lieutenant; that's as low a rank as you can have and still be an officer. Besides that, most of these people are civilians."

"Maybe so. But look at them." The Mayor waved a hand across the crowd. "These people are worried. I mean, we're stranded in space. We know we'll be rescued. But waiting is gonna drive them nuts. So we need to do something--anything--to keep them occupied."

"Uh, okay. What do you suggest?"

"I recommend we take a head count. Get names, too. It'll be sure to help whoever's coordinating the rescue mission. I imagine the other shelters are thinking of this as well, especially if there are any of your boys among them."

Ranma considered this. It did make a fair bit of sense. "I think you've got a good idea, Mr. Mayor." Ranma grinned at the thought of something useful to do. He grabbed a clipboard that was floating nearby and drifted towards the crowd.

"Okay, listen up. We're going to do a quick tally and get everyone's name. I'm gonna write these down here, and when we're rescued, we'll, uh, have a list of names for them." He repeated himself in English, jotted down his own name, then turned to the mayor. "Uh, sir, what's your name?"

"Thomas Luan."

He wrote it down and proceeded to the next person.

* * *

"Macross, Skull Leader. That's the last of them. Any sign of enemy pursuit?"

"Base. Negative, Skull Leader. As far as we can tell, we've got this part of space to ourselves. Skull Squadron is ordered to report in and stand down for four hours. After that, we'll be deploying you for the rescue operation."

* * *

"Name?"

He glanced up from his clipboard, and into the face of his mystery girl. She looked trapped, and was glancing about her, as though searching for an escape. Another girl floating next to her, a very tall girl with long hair bound into a ponytail, put her hand on the smaller girl's shoulder, as if to offer support.

"Uh, your name is...?"

She sighed, as though in resignation.

"Tendo Akane."

* * *

"Negative, Skull Leader. We need you for the rescue operation."

"Dammit, my friend is somewhere out there. I got him into this, and I gotta pull him out of it."

"I say again, Skull Leader. Negative. You can look for your friend on your own time."

"Yes, _sir!_"

"Don't worry, Fokker. He's probably in one of the bomb shelters. We'll bring him in." Lieutenant Lisa Hayes clicked off the Tac Net, and sighed. "Seventy thousand civilians in deep shit because of us, and he wants to go look for one of them."

"Did he say who it was?" Claudia sipped her coffee.

"No."

"Probably it was that last-minute invite of his. Rick Hunter."

"Oh, I hope not." Lisa scowled. "That Hunter kid has already cost me several hours of paperwork. If I ever see him again--"

"You better hope you do." Claudia smirked. "If you don't, Roy'll be very angry with you."

* * *

Ranma set his clipboard on the desk and sighed.

And then grabbed the clipboard as it started to float away. Glancing around, he found a clamp, and secured the clipboard.

"Hi."

He glanced over at Akane. She was drifting slowly towards him, her skirt billowing out behind her. She put out a hand to stop herself as she reached the desk, then spent a couple of seconds trying to stop her spin.

"Uh, hi, Akane."

"Um..."

"Ah...I guess we're engaged, huh?"

She scowled. "It wasn't my choice."

"Mine either. But Pop and your father decided to make that choice for us, didn't they?"

"I guess."

They floated for a second, neither looking at the other.

"So...how do you feel about it?"

He shrugged. "It's gotta be done. Family honour, and all that."

"Honour? Is that why you tried to break the engagement?"

"Huh?" He turned in surprise to face her. "I didn't try to break it. Remember, I told you when we first met, I still consider the engagement valid. But I've got a career to consider, and I didn't feel it was fair to drag you into it until I'd gotten a little more settled."

"Dammit, Ranma, you didn't even try to contact me or Dad! Your father came to tell us about your decision. Dad was heartbroken! He nearly had an emotional breakdown!"

"The Colonel? Emotions? Feh."

"You idiot! You think he goes around putting his feelings on display for the whole world to see? Do you know why he retired?"

"Not offhand."

She quieted her voice. "When Mom died, Dad nearly died with her. He left the base on Grievance Leave, and didn't go back. They sent MPs around looking for him, and they had to pry him from his room to court martial. They gave him a medical discharge, with option to re-up if he wanted to.

"For the last five years, he's been in emotional shock. The only thing that kept him going was the fact that before Mom died, she had agreed to our betrothal. But he wouldn't run the dojo. We had to rent the space out to another master, just to keep the bills paid. Kasumi kept us all going, and Nabiki kept the books balanced, but it was hard."

Ranma scowled. "Thought you didn't want this."

"I don't. I just wanted you to..." She sighed. "Ranma...I'm not gonna ask you to marry me, or anything. But you told my Dad that you didn't break the engagement, just...put it on hold. And you've told me the same thing now."

He nodded. "That's right. Family honour has to be upheld."

"You don't seem very enthusiastic about it."

He shrugged, but made no further comment.

"I think I understand. We don't know each other at all, so all there is to consider is honour." Akane sighed. "All right. I have to tell you that I'm not really thrilled about this engagement either. But I don't want to trap you with honour either. I mean, I'm not going to break it off unless you want to."

He looked up at her appraisingly.

"Do you want to end it?"

Ranma considered it. "No."

She nodded. "All right. We'll keep on as we are now."

They floated in silence. Akane realized she was still turning very slightly on spot. She cursed quietly, and struggled to stop her spin.

Unfortunately, Akane was not at all experienced with free-fall activity. The more she struggled to stop, the faster she ended up spinning.

"Want a hand?"

She glared at him. "No, thank you. I can manage."

"Are you sure? I mean, a skirt's not the best thing for zero-gee..."

"What are you talking about?"

"The whole shelter must have seen up your skirt by now. Blue really ain't your colour"

Her face turned an alarming shade of purple. She pushed the front of her dress down, then realized it wasn't helping at all.

"You..._pervert!_"

He wasn't sure where she got the mallet. But it connected with the side of his head with all the power of a Valkyrie's punch, and he found himself sailing through the air until he collided with the bulkhead.

"Hey! I stopped spinning!"

She quickly adjusted her skirt.

* * *

Ranma drifted back to consciousness to find himself face down on the floor. There was a light pressure on his back, that he was guessing was a hand. He rolled over, and felt the hand leave his back.

"Oh, good, he's waking up."

Ranma blinked, and managed to focus on the speaker. It was a girl, with short hair and a healthy build.

"We were starting to wonder if maybe Akane'd hit you too hard."

"Does she do that a lot?"

"Only to guys." The girl handed Ranma a bottle. "Here. Tylenol. Fifty yen each, please."

Ranma scowled at her, then reached into his pocket and flipped her a hundred yen coin. He swallowed two of the Tylenol dry, then looked around for a drinking bulb.

Another girl floated over, a bulb in her hand. Ranma recognized her as the girl he'd seen with Akane earlier. She handed the bulb to Ranma. "Here. Drink this."

Ranma looked at her suspiciously. "What's it gonna cost me?"

"Oh, no, no charge."

Ranma accepted the bulb and drank deeply.

"I hope you won't think less of Akane. She's really a very sweet girl. It's just that she has an uncontrollable temper."

"I'm pretty sure he's figured that out already, Sis."

"Yeah." Ranma rubbed his head. "Man, try to help someone out, and this is what I get?" His fingers encountered cloth. "Hey, who bandaged my head?"

"Oh, that was me. There was a small cut that was bleeding, and I thought it would be best to bind it."

"Thanks." He blinked. "Nabiki and Kasumi, right?"

"Yep." The short-haired girl grinned. "Who told?"

"Nobody. Just sorta figured it out." He didn't mention that he couldn't figure out which was which. "Where's Akane?"

The short-haired girl jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "Over at the other end of the shelter. Probably still sulking. Something else she does a lot."

Ranma nodded. "So she's down on guys, eh? Why?"

The girl shrugged. "I'm not really sure. I think she mentioned once that one of the pilots on base was...pushy."

Ranma gulped. Hopefully, it was one of the other pilots on base that she'd been complaining about...

* * *

**THUMP**

Ranma had been stretched out on a desk, trying to sleep. They'd been locked inside the shelter for almost a week, and many of the civilians were starting to go stir crazy. Like most soldiers, Ranma coped by catching up on his back log of sleep. Now, he jerked awake and looked around, surprised by the sudden noise.

**THUMP**

"Docking rig...Everyone!" He struggled to a more upright position. "Everyone, get towards the floor. We're gonna--"

Gravity returned. Ranma crashed down, stumbled, and fell onto his side. All around him, people dropped like stones. There were cries of pain as some people landed badly. Ranma stood up, rubbing his shoulder.

There was another **THUMP**, and a clanking groan as the massive cams that operated the doors began to turn. Cheers arose throughout the shelter as the doors opened into the light.

Colonel Tendo strode into the shelter and raised his voice. "You are the last shelter in. Congratulations are in order to civil powers. No casualties were discovered on the island, and so we can assume that not a single life was lost during the mis-fold. Everyone on the island made it to a bomb shelter on time."

Saotome stepped up to the Colonel. "Sir. Here is a list and count of every person in this shelter. Sorted by name, family then given."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Tendo quickly flipped through the list. He grinned. "Thank you very much. I was hoping to find them here. Kasumi! Nabiki! Akane!"

He handed Ranma the clipboard and waded into the crowd.

Roy pushed his way into the shelter. "Ranma! Thank God you're here. I was starting to get worried."

"Hey, no problems, Captain!"

"Have you seen Rick?"

"Who? Oh, Rick Hunter! No, he wasn't here. Maybe one of the other--" Ranma stopped, remembering that this was the last shelter to be brought in. Roy was flipping through the clipboard.

"Looks like Tendo's little speech was premature. We found no bodies on theremains of the island." Roy's voice was bitter. "But it looks like both Rick and Minmei were out there somewhere."


	6. 15: Reunion

**REUNION**

Ranma sat in the dining room of the White Dragon.

The entire town of Macross was being rebuilt inside the Super Dimensional Fortress. Many of the buildings had been undamaged by their little jaunt through space. It was simply a matter of pulling them into a cargo bay, re-pressurizing the bay, and moving them to their destination inside the ship.

Sometimes, thawing the buildings would damage them irreparably. In these cases, the building was torn down and rebuilt. The Macross had been designed with materials recycling in mind, and the shops were able to turn even badly shattered lumber into reasonably new building material. Damaged brick could be converted into cement, and even shattered glass could be re-glazed. Perhaps eighty percent of the buildings came through in one piece, and the twenty percent that did not yielded sufficient materials to build one new building for every two that were scrapped.

The White Dragon had survived mostly intact, save for one corner where a Valkyrie had crashed into it. But the owner was not himself.

"You were always her best friend, Ranma. I mean, you were always kind to her, and you never hit on her. She liked the attention she got from the pilots, but she always wanted someone just to be her friend."

"I know, Max. I miss her, too."

"Miss who?"

Ranma looked up to see Akane walk in. "Oh, Max and I were talking about his niece. Lin Minmei."

"Oh? A girlfriend of yours?"

_"What?_ No way! Minmei and I were just friends! Besides, she's only fifteen."

"You like them young?"

"Please. Don't be jealous of Minmei." Lin smiled. "Saotome-san never did anything inappropriate to her. He was just her friend."

"Well..."

"Akane..." Ranma stared at his plate. "Minmei is missing. She and Rick Hunter were never found."

She had the grace to look embarrassed. "Oh...I'm sorry, Lin."

He bowed to her, and moved towards the kitchen.

The door opened again, and Roy Fokker walked in. He collapsed into his customary seat and glared at Ranma.

"You're out of uniform."

"Huh?"

Roy pulled a small cardboard chit from his breast pocket and tossed it to Ranma. "This is only a field brevet; it won't be official until we hit dirtside again, so you won't get any more pay. But it IS for real. Congratulations, First Looie."

"Hey, thanks, Roy!" Ranma wasted no time pinning the silver bars on his lapels.

"Hey, you earned it, kid. All I did was point that out to old man Tendo. Oh, and more good news, Saotome. We're both on duty at seventeen hundred. Construction work, oh joy, oh joy."

Ranma frowned. "A Valkyrie for construction work?"

"Nope. We'll both be in Spartans. You might not believe it, but the Crow Hands on the Spartan are actually better for this sort of job."

"Oh, I believe it. I mean, the Spartan can rip zortrium armour plating like tissue paper."

"In this case, it's a combination of the strength and accuracy. Valkyrie hands are too clumsy, and the little manipulators built into the arm are too flimsy."

Max returned from the kitchen with three menus and three glasses of water on his tray. He set the tray on the table and began handing out the menus. Unfortunately, he hit the glasses.

_splash_

Where Ranma had been sitting, there was now a petite redhead, the U.N. Spacy uniform hanging off of her.

"Oh, damn..."

"What the bloody hell?" Roy sat bolt upright in his seat. Akane stared at the girl in shock.

"Well, I suppose you had to find out sometime."

"Ranma...is that you?"

She scowled, and started to wring out the uniform. "Yeah. It's me."

Max beat a hasty retreat to the kitchen.

"Lemme explain here. About three years ago, me and Pop went to this place called Jushenkyo. It's supposed to be a training ground. In fact, it's a cursed training ground. Anyone who falls into one of the pools takes the body of whatever drowned there. I fell in Nian-ni-chuan. Spring of Drowned Girl."

Ranma reached for the small teakettle on the table. She upended it over her head, changing back to male, then set it down.

"As you can see, hot water reverses the effect, but only until next time I come into contact with cold water."

Roy frowned. "How much cold water?"

"I think it's a matter of how much of my skin is contacted." He picked up the third glass, and poured it over his hand. "As you can see, this isn't enough. If I dumped it over my head, it would be."

Akane was still staring at him, her mouth hanging open.

Roy rubbed his chin. "How the hell did you survive boot camp? I mean, the first time you had to shower--"

"Ever been to the boot camp at Macross?"

"Ah...no. I was already commissioned by the time the Visitor arrived."

"It's the only boot camp with partitioned showers. And at Kadena, we actually had heated showers." He grinned. "It was almost civilized. And of course, the Macross BOQ had a shower for each room. It was just a matter of not letting Ben in while I was showering."

Roy rubbed his chin. "This is too weird. As your commanding officer, I should report this. But first off, no-one would ever believe me. And second, I think we could turn this to an advantage."

Ranma scowled. "Whaddaya mean?"

"Well, it's been known for about twenty years now that women make better fighter pilots than men. And I'm sure the same goes for Valkyries."

"Hey, I'm a guy, got it?"

"But only part time! So you just take a canteen of cold water and a thermos of hot into the cockpit with you..."

"Forget it!"

"For now, I will."

Akane closed her mouth with a snap. "I was right the first time. You _are_ a pervert."

"_What?_"

She turned to Fokker. "Women make better fighter pilots?"

"Whaddaya mean, I'm a pervert?"

Roy shrugged. "Yep. Higher pain threshold, higher G-force threshold, better spatial sense and situational awareness."

"I ain't a pervert!"

"Not to mention better padding, and they look much better in these skin-tight uniforms than us men do."

Akane stood, and picked up the glass of water. "I stand corrected. All men are perverts." She dumped the glass over Ranma's head, then turned and walked out of the restaurant.

Roy watched her go. "Y'know, Saotome, you could do a lot worse. As I said, she does have a nice--"

"Ya tryin' to prove her right?"

"--personality." He tried his best to look innocent. "What?"

* * *

"Keep it going, Saotome."

Ranma was strapped into the Spartan Destroid. The machine's weapons bays were empty, as it had been pressed into duty in construction. Opposite him was an ADR Defender, its anti-aircraft gun arms dismounted and replaced with twin boom-cranes. The cranes were hoisting a two-storey house. Ranma's job was to align the house with its new foundations.

"All right...stop there. Bring it a little to the left. Your _other_ left, shithead! All right. Bring it down...There. Okay boys, back off. Smith, unhook. Looks good." The construction boss, an RDF Gunnery Sergeant, took off his helmet and mopped his brow. "There's one more family able to sleep at home tonight."

**GROAN**

"Aw, fuck! Smith, hook back up!" The boss jammed his helmet back on as the ADR stepped forward to re-engage the crane. Unfortunately the added strain on the floor caused it to buckle.

"Jesus Christ! What the fuck are you doing? Get out of there, Smith. Saotome, back as well. Thirty meters, minimum."

The Mecha and humans scrambled away from the building as the deck-plates slowly caved in. The ADR pilot slung a hook onto the building, keeping it from falling in. The deck-plates came completely loose, cascading down into the bowels of the ship.

"Fucking great! Just fucking perfect! You fuckheads don't have the common fucking sense to watch where you're putting your goddamn feet! I oughtta--" He paused in the string of profanity. "Saotome! Have you got a floodlight on that thing?"

Ranma clicked on the externals. "Sorry, Gunny. It's blown. Smith has a pair."

"Smith! Light up those floods and give us a look-see down there."

"Sure, Gunny. Gimme a second..." Smith brought the ADR's boom-crane around, and dragged the house to a more stable location. He then walked up to the hole in the deck, and swivelled both searchlights down into the hole. The Sergeant walked up to the hole.

"Yeah, looks like a bad support gave out here...fairly contained, we can work around it until we can fix it."

"Hey, Gunny? I've got two small heat signatures down below. Human, I'd guess."

"Human? What the fuck? Saotome! Get a lift platform over here!"

Ranma marched his Mecha over to the supply truck, got a lift cage, and connected it to the Defender's free boom-crane. Over the Tac Net, he heard Smith calling for a medevac team.

Then Smith lowered the cage into the hole.

"They're moving away from the drop point...okay, they've stopped. I guess they were just getting to a safe distance. Cage is down. They're getting into it. I'm bringing them up slowly..."

Ranma fiddled with the Destroid's optic systems and zoomed in on the rising cage. As it entered the flood's range, he gasped in recognition.

"Saotome to Fokker."

"Huh? What's up, kid?"

"We just found Rick and Minmei. They're alive!"

* * *

"So, what did I miss?"

Hunter sat opposite Fokker and Saotome at the Skull's table of the White Dragon. Minmei, for the moment, was wrapped around him. Minutes before, she'd been wrapped around Ranma, much to his discontent. And Rick's.

"Well, the SDF-1 made an unscheduled jump from Earth to here. Last I heard, we're two and a half months from home on subluminal drive."

"Why can't we just 'jump' back?"

"I'm not sure. Something about some piece of machinery being destroyed down in the engine room. Also, we can't currently fire the main gun. Dr. Lang is working on a fix for that problem. Rumor has it he's solved it, but the Captain didn't like his answer, and sent him back to the drawing board."

"How many people are on board?"

"About sixty thousand civilians, and a third that many military. We're rebuilding the city, but we can't put too many of our raw resources into housing. So whenever a house can't be salvaged, we pull it apart and build a new one. Usually with more bedrooms."

"That's actually what I was doing when I punched a hole through the floor..."

"C'mon, Ranma, that wasn't your fault. For one thing, it was Smitty's Destroid nearest the buckle point. And the structure was probably weakened beforehand. That house probably weighed less than your Destroid or Smitty's, so it's just a matter of you reached that beam's limits."

"Yeah, well, now some of those raw resources that we have too little of now has to go to patching up that hole."

Rick stood and stretched. Minmei hopped up to allow him out of the booth.

"Well, I gotta head. I'm still really tired from all that. I gotta see the quartermaster for a place to crash."

"Rick, why don't you join the U.N. Spacy? I mean, you're a natural pilot, even better than Saotome here."

"Yeah, right..."

Fokker slugged Ranma's shoulder. "Shut up, you." He turned back to his friend. "Listen, Rick. The Service is really hurting for pilots, and there's not too much call for non-military work around the ship right now. So right now you're supercargo; you're doin' nothing. If you sign up, at least you'll be working towards givin' everyone on board a ticket home."

The bell on the door rang as Akane entered. Unnoticed, she stood and watched the scene before her.

"Roy, you know how I hate the military--"

"Does that include me, little brother? Dammit, do you even know why I'm here in the first place?" Roy seemed genuinely angry.

"No, Roy, I don't. What happened? What made you willing to kill?"

"Damnit, Rick! I signed up because there was a cause to believe in. At first it was the damn Russkies bombing the eastern seaboard. Pop died there because he wouldn't fight. I wanted to make sure that didn't happen again.

"And I stayed in, and transferred to U.N. Spacy, because I saw what was in this ship. I saw the fucking Giants, and I knew they'd be coming for us. I knew they'd want this ship back. And I knew they weren't just going to ask."

He waved his hand towards the bulkhead. "They're still out there, and they're hostile, and I still have to protect the people here. Like it or not, little brother, I have to kill."

"Don't try to make me into a killer, Roy. I won't let it happen." Rick was standing, fists clenched, teeth bared.

Roy sighed. "Okay, Rick. Forget I mentioned it, okay?"

Rick stood stock-still, then slowly relaxed. "Okay, I will. I gotta go." He turned and left the building.

Akane walked over and sat down across from Ranma. "Who was that?"

"Hm? Oh, Rick Hunter. Roy's little brother."

"Really? No family resemblance."

"Well, it goes back to when he and I were in his pop's flying circus." Roy gulped his coffee. "We flew as a pair, and we understood each other pretty well. My parents had died ten years before the Global Civil War, so Pop Hunter kind of took me in."

"He's cute."

Akane realized that she was getting fishy stares from both Minmei and Ranma.

"What? He is!"

Ranma snorted. "He's lucky, too."

"Why's that?"

"He doesn't have an uncute tomboy for a fian--"

**WHACK**

"What was that, Ranma? Would you care to repeat that?"

Minmei blinked. "Oh, you must be Ranma's fiancee!"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm Tendo Akane. Pleased to meet you." She bowed to the smaller girl.

"Lin Minmei. Pleased to meet you."

"Ranma's told me all about you."

Minmei began to sweat. "Nothing bad, I hope...?"

She grinned. "Don't worry. He told me you're one of his best friends on board. And nothing more." She glowered at Ranma. "Of course, he only saw fit to mention you yesterday..."


	7. 16: Discovery

**DISCOVERY**

"Sir, I'm picking up large amounts of Reflex Energy discharge at zero two two azimuth zero three. Looks like a Fold operation."

Gloval pulled his pipe from his pocket and clamped it in his teeth. "On screen."

The visual came alive, displaying the area of space radiating the disturbance. Space lit up, as a huge globe three hundred kilometres across sprang into being. The globe faded, leaving a large fleet of warships in its wake.

"Damn, they've finally caught up with us. Well, we couldn't expect it to last. Kim, plot a course to slingshot us around Uranus. Maybe we can gain some speed as well as some cover." He dug into another pocket and pulled out a wooden kitchen match. "Lisa, order Valkyrie crews to ready five."

"Yes, sir."

"Sir!"

Gloval swivelled to face Sammie Porter. "What is it?"

"Regulations prohibit smoking on the bridge."

Claudia Grant shook her head in disgust.

Gloval pocketed the unlit pipe. "I wasn't going to smoke it...I was just holding it."

* * *

Lieutenant Hayes' voice echoed throughout the vessel.

"All Valkyrie crews report to briefing. Ready Five in effect."

Roy stubbed his cigarette. "Fuck. So much for time off. C'mon, kid, there's work to do."

"Sorry, Akane, duty calls." Ranma jumped up, dropping a thousand-yen note on the table, and followed Roy at a dead run.

* * *

"Twenty five minutes ago, Bridge reported four thousand alien vessels folding into this area. The SDF-1 will be attempting a slingshot manoeuvre around the planet Uranus in an attempt to slip past the alien fleet. However, we know for certain that the aliens are aware of our presence. For all the good it will do us. Lieutenant Saotome."

"Sir?"

"I know we haven't gotten you a proper billet yet. For this operation, you are in command of Green Squadron. You will patrol Quadrant One. Skull Squadron, Quadrant Two. Red Squadron, Quadrant Three. And Vermilion Squadron, Quadrant Four.

"The remaining eight squadrons will remain on Ready Five, except for Gold, which will be on Alert One."

Groans were heard throughout the briefing room.

"Stow it. This is not a pleasure cruise. We will rotate one Squadron per hour, the team on Alert One replacing one fielded team, which then goes to the back of the list to be fielded. Each of you will be up for four and down for eight hours. We do not know how much breathing room the aliens are going to give us, so this schedule will prevail until further notice."

"Colonel, you're a heartless prick."

"Blue Squadron will now replace Gold on the catapults."

More groans echoed throughout the briefing room.

"That's all. Deploy. And good luck."

* * *

"Macross, Green Leader. Reporting contacts, vector...oh seven five azimuth negative three three from your direction of travel. Oh, and they're closing. Request instructions."

"Green Squadron, Macross. Close and attack. Skull Squadron has reported contacts and is engaging, so we're vectoring Sepia to support you. What's wrong with your voice?"

"Uh, must be a change in the helium mix in the cockpit..."

"Get it fixed."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Green Leader, this is Sepia Leader. Mind if we mix it up?"

"Colonel?"

Ranma stared at the Tac Net Screen. Somehow, it had slipped her mind that Soun Tendo commanded Sepia Squadron.

"Ah, no, I don't mind at all."

* * *

Akane stood before the U.N. Spacy recruiting center, debating whether or not she should be there.

_Doing this will not make Dad happy, and Kasumi will probably be very disappointed. And there's no guarantee that they'll let me do what I want to...And Ranma will probably be angry._

_And since when do I care what Ranma thinks?_

She set her jaw and walked in.

* * *

Quadrant One was one gigantic furball.

Ranma had her Valkyrie in Gerwalk Mode, and was ripping into fighter pods and battlepods with the GU-11 and head lasers. The aliens had fielded a small force by their standards, but Green Squadron was still outnumbered six to one. Sepia was still ninety seconds out, and Ranma knew that that might be too far out to save her own squadron.

As she watched, five Green Valkyries were ripped apart. Despite the U.N. Spacy's best training, and mecha more powerful and better armoured than the opposition, sheer numbers could still weigh them down. And just in case by some miracle they survived the furball, looming behind the enemy Mecha was a massive spacecraft, of the sort Intelligence had dubbed a cruiser.

"Green Twelve, go to Gerwalk! They can outmanoeuvre you in Fighter Mode."

"Roger, Green Leader."

Ranma brought the GU-11 around and hosed down another fighter pod, then paused to reload. She glanced at the Tac Display, and grinned. "Green Team, heads up! Incoming friendly missiles!"

Green Valkyries all through the furball disengaged and pulled away from the alien mecha as a hail of missiles descended into the furball.

"Sepia Squadron, break and attack!"

Ranma watched in amazement as Colonel Tendo dived into the firefight. Although he remained in Fighter Mode, he was pulling stunts that Ranma knew she could never emulate. He mostly ignored the battlepods, but fighter pod after fighter pod fell before him.

Ranma grinned. Maybe they'd get out of this after all.

Her Tac Net flickered, and Roy came on. "Ranma, we've discovered that reconfiguration tends to confuse the aliens. If you switch modes often enough, you'll keep them off their edge. Oh, you're using your own secret weapon, huh?"

"Shut up, ah, Major."

"Yep, reconfiguration can really throw them off."

"You're a dead man, Fokker."

He laughed. "Later, later."

"Okay, Green, listen up. A bit of advice just came through from Skull. Reconfiguration can throw them off. So let's get wild."

Ranma reached over to her console and pulled the S lever. The Valkyrie reconfigured around her, and she spun to fire the GU-11 at the battlepod on his tail. She allowed the Valkyrie's wings to remain extended in order to improve manoeuvrability; the wingtip-mounted thrusters allowed the reconfigured Mecha more control in space. She fired the leg thrusters and rammed a pod, punching through its thin armour and depressurizing the pilot's compartment. Then a quick shift to Fighter Mode to close on the next target.

* * *

"We have to fire the main gun! It's our only way out. Prepare to execute Dr. Lang's modular transformation sequence."

"Sir! The city will be destroyed!"

"I know, Kim, but better that than the entire ship. Lisa, warn the people to the shelters."

"Aye sir. Modular transformation will begin in forty-five seconds."

* * *

"What the hell?"

Ranma watched as the Macross began its transformation sequence. The two supercarriers attached to the side began to swing outwards, and the twin booms of the Main Gun slid back along the fuselage. The overall effect was similar to the Valkyrie's reconfiguration. And the result was the same. The Macross was becoming a massive Battloid. The supercarriers were held before it like arms, and the massive engine thrusters protruded downward like legs and feet.

The alien Mecha broke off and began to retreat. Shouts of victory rose from the remains of Green and Sepia Squadrons.

"Good work, team. Let's head for home."

The Macross' main gun fired, the beam stabbing through the approaching enemy cruiser. In the silence of space, it exploded, sending debris flying in all directions.

* * *

Green and Sepia Squadrons, less than a full squadron in Valkyries between them, landed on the Prometheus. As soon as Ranma touched down, she removed her helmet, pulled out the thermos and poured some of the water inside over her head.

It was lukewarm. Even a thermos can keep water hot for only so long. She groaned, then donned her helmet and taxied to the liftlock.

Ranma climbed out of the fighter as a tractor rolled up to pull it to its berth. _Yo, next thing to do is get back to my quarters and take a hot shower._

"Lieutenant Saotome?"

She grimaced, and turned to see Lisa Hayes looking at her. Hayes was a Lieutenant Commander, equivalent rank to a Major for the Valkyrie pilots, and was the Flight Operations Officer for the entire Dimensional Fortress. Ranma was very glad that she was wearing her body armour. As bulky as it was, it hid her body's more obvious features.

"You reported a gas imbalance in your cockpit."

"Ah, no ma'am, I think I mentioned that maybe a helium increase in my cockpit was responsible for my voice..."

"Remote monitoring of environmental conditions is built into every Valkyrie. I checked your fighter's gas mix. No increase in helium was indicated. Furthermore, there was your exchange with Captain Fokker. What was this 'secret weapon' he mentioned, hmm?"

"Ahh...I'd rather not say at this time."

"Dammit, take off the helmet. It's muffling your voice."

Ranma cursed inwardly. She unclasped the helmet and removed it.

"I thought we had an impostor. Who the hell--"

"Lieutenant Saotome, ma'am." Ranma fidgeted. "Tell you what, Commander. Why don't I explain this over a cup of tea."

* * *

Much of Macross City had been damaged severely by the modular transformation. Even now, teams of Destroids were working to rebuild the ravaged community. The White Dragon had survived untouched, as had several other buildings. Word was that the buildings would be replaced on segments that were stable during transformation.

At the moment, the Dragon was empty, save for Lin Max and Minmei. Max glanced up as Saotome and Hayes entered.

"Hi, Ranma. Lemme guess: You want some hot water."

"Good guess, Max. Hi, Minmei."

Minmei stared at her.

Lisa also stared. "So you really are Saotome."

"Yeah." Ranma sat down in his usual seat. Lisa sat down opposite him. "Lemme tell you all about Jushenkyo."

"Hey, Ranma! Thought you took a thermos into the cockpit with you?"

Ranma glanced up to see Roy Fokker walk in.

"Jackass! This is all your fault!"

"Hey, is that any way to greet your superior officer?" Roy grinned and wagged a finger at Ranma. He dropped into the seat next to Hayes.

Ranma scowled. "It was my second patrol. After fifteen hours, the water in the thermos was nice and cold."

"_Okay!_ Someone tell me what's going on?" Commander Hayes looked very confused and very upset.

"Trying to. Uh, Minmei, I don't think you know about this yet either. You might as well sit down and listen in."

Max returned with a teakettle. Minmei sat down next to Ranma.

"Okay, Roy already knows this story, but...About three years ago, when I was still training in martial arts, my father and I went to a place called Jushenkyo to train. Jushenkyo is full of one thousand small pools, and each one has a curse."

"Curse?" Hayes looked at Ranma oddly. "Are you feeling okay?"

Roy grabbed the teakettle and poured water over Ranma. Hayes stared at Ranma in disbelief.

Ranma looked down at his folded hands. "Believe me now?"

"Captain Fokker, how long have you known about this?"

"Oh, about a week now."

"And you didn't report it?"

"Would you have believed me?"

Hayes paused. "Well...no." She turned back to Ranma. "So what causes you to turn into a female?"

"Cold water."

"And you deliberately used cold water to transform before entering combat?"

"Uh...before launching, actually."

"Why?"

Roy spoke up. "Actually, Lieutenant, it's my fault. During the Global Civil War, we found that women actually make better fighter pilots than men. It's just the social stigma attached, the idea that only a man can be a warrior, that kept it from becoming practise."

Hayes thought about this for a moment. Then she addressed Fokker. "Do you believe that only a man can be a warrior?"

Roy grinned. "'Warrior' conjures to mind someone dressed in armour and waving a sword. Men do tend to be stronger than women, so they can wear heavier armour and wave bigger swords. I think what you mean to say here is, can a woman be a better soldier or fighter pilot. Personally, I think so. Women have higher pain thresholds, can pull more gees and have a better grasp of spatial perceptions."

Hayes turned back to Ranma. "Saotome, you're the only one here who's been in both positions. What do you think?"

Ranma considered. "Well, I'm not sure. What Roy's talking about isn't really something I can pick up on. But I do know that I was interfacing with the Valkyrie better as a female."

The door opened, and Rick and Akane walked in. Both were wearing ROTP cadet uniforms, and Akane's hair had been cut to regulation length. Roy glanced up in surprise.

"Rick! What happened?"

He grinned a bit unsteadily. "I figured that maybe you were right. And at least, it's better than moping about here."

Ranma was equally surprised. "A-Akane? Are you crazy?"

Akane frowned at him. "Oh, you disapprove of my joining up?"

"People get killed out there! Why are you so anxious to put your neck on the line?"

Akane clenched her fists. "For the same reasons you do! My sisters are here, and I'm gonna do whatever I can to protect them. Why are you so concerned anyway?" She stopped, and grinned suddenly. "Are you actually worried about me?"

"No way!"

Akane noticed Commander Hayes suddenly. "And while I was off joining up, you're sitting here collecting more girlfriends?"

Roy guffawed.

"_Huh?_ Lieutenant Hayes is my commanding officer!"

"Well, that's one way to get promotions!"

Lisa was blushing furiously. "Excuse me, Major, I need to get back to the bridge."

Roy stood to allow her to escape.

Rick grinned at the still arguing Ranma and Akane. "Boy, you can tell they're really in love."

Ranma and Akane whirled on Rick. "Stay out of this, Hunter."

Lisa paused and glanced at Rick. "Hunter? Rick Hunter?"

Rick seemed surprised. "Uh, yeah, that's me. Oh, no..."

Roy grinned. "Oh, yeah, you two have spoken before, haven't you?"

"Don't remind me," chorused Lisa and Rick. They glared at each other, then Lisa poked Rick in the chest. "You owe me a beer."

Roy laughed again. "Well, little brother, I know you're going into Valkyries. What did you sign up for, Tendo?"

Akane seemed to deflate. "Well, I wanted to fly Valkyries as well, but they pushed me into Communications."

"Really?" Lisa raised an eyebrow. "Well, it just so happens that I've recieved some information that suggests that women make good Mecha pilots. This information warrants investigation. So we'll need to train some female Valkyrie pilots to investigate. Care to volunteer?"

"You bet!" Akane glanced at Ranma. "She knows...?"

"Yeah...Um, Commander? I'd appreciate it if word doesn't get around about my curse. You, too, Minmei."

"No problem, Captain."

"Okay, Ranma."

Rick looked confused. "Curse? What are you talking about?"

Lisa grinned. "Sorry, Cadet. That information is on a need to know basis. And you don't need to know."


	8. 21: Command

**COMMAND**

Ranma dropped the Valkyrie onto the deck of the Prometheus and taxied over to the lift lock. He pulled out his thermos--a specially designed one with a built-in heater--and changed back to male. When the lift lock had cycled, he hopped out of the cockpit and ran for the door.

"Hold it, Saotome."

He skidded to a stop and turned to face Lieutenant Commander Hayes.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I'm looking for a volunteer for an experimental project."

Ranma knew damn well that that meant he'd already volunteered.

"Ah, what project, ma'am?"

"We have a class of Valkyrie pilots graduating in a week. Seventeen of these are female. Two are new recruits; the rest are former U.N. Spacy personnel who signed up to pilot Valkyries and were...disappointed. Lieutenant Grant and I want to form a new squadron. I'm authorized to give you command of that squadron."

Good, not as bad as he'd feared. "Okay, Commander, count me in. Who'll be replacing me in Green Squadron?"

"Captain Kramer, from Skull Squadron. Some of the graduating class are going into Skull to fill some holes anyway, including your buddy Hunter, and Fokker has been pushing for Kramer to get his own squadron." She tossed him an envelope. "Here are your orders. Oh, and you've got a five-day leave, starting now. Enjoy it."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Dismissed."

Ranma glanced down at his orders. A five-day leave sounded great in theory, but he knew he would spend most of it familiarizing himself with his new command. But by making it an official leave, just before reporting to his new outfit, the brass forced him to use up accrued leave.

That wasn't the part that unsettled him, though. A squadron of all-trainee female fighter pilots? How would they react to having a male command officer?

_Why do I have a bad feeling about this?_

* * *

Ranma walked into the White Dragon and over to the Skull table. Granted, he had not flown as part of Skull Squadron in two months, but he was always welcomed by the long-time Skull pilots.

Currently only Roy and Mark Kramer were at the table.

"Hey, Kramer. Want some hot gossip?" Ranma sat down at the table.

"Sure." Kramer grinned. "Who's it about?"

"You."

"Really? Do tell."

"Word has it you're getting your own command again."

"What squadron?"

"Green."

Roy squinted. "Isn't that your squadron, kid?"

"Was. Apparently, I've been transferred to a new squadron full of trainees."

"Hey, that says a lot about the brass' opinion of you, kid. Normally, trainees are assigned two at a time to a commander with a hell of a lot of experience. To give you a squad of nothing but trainees..."

"Yeah, well..." Ranma shrugged. "It's kind of a special outfit. Hayes dreamed it up, and I guess decided I was the only person qualified to lead it."

Roy frowned. "Oh, I got a bad feeling about that."

"That's what I was thinking."

The door opened, and Akane walked in, grinning from ear to ear.

"Excuse me, Lieutenant." Ranma moved to allow Kramer to stand. Kramer walked around to the other side of the table and sat next to Roy, leaving a blank spot right next to Ranma. Akane scowled at all three of them, but took the spot.

"Well, I've officially graduated flight school and Valkyrie training. Graduation ceremony's tomorrow, then I get four days of leave. And I've already been posted to a new squadron."

"Really?" Ranma grinned a bit. "They told you who your commanding officer will be?"

"All Lieutenant Grant said is that she was a 'shit-hot pilot with more brass than a Flag Officer's Ward Room', end quote."

"Uh...she?"

"Yeah. Apparently, it's an all-female squadron, right down to the CO."

"Aw, man..." Ranma tore into the packet and pulled out his orders. Sure enough, it directed the formation of a new fighter squadron, all female, to be under the command of...

"Ranko Saotome?" Kramer frowned. "Hey, you got a sister, Lieutenant?"

"I hate my life...I hate my life..."

Akane laughed. "So _that's_ who she meant!" She picked up a glass of water and dumped it on Ranma's head. "Captain, this is Saotome Ranko, Ranma's...ah...sister."

Kramer blinked. "You've gotta be shittin' me."

Ranma sighed, and launched yet again into an explanation of Jushenkyou.

* * *

Ranma banged on Commander Hayes' Quarters' door for the third time. Still no answer. His anger was growing by leaps and bounds. When he saw her next--

"Can I help you, Lieutenant?"

He whirled, to find himself face to face with the Lieutenant Commander. Apparently, she'd been out, probably at the Gym, judging from her attire.

"Commander, is this some kind of sick joke?"

"What exactly do you mean, Saotome?"

"I've been posted to an all-female squadron! Hell, I've been put in command of an all-female squadron! As a female! I'm a guy, dammit!"

"Apparently, you're not a guy one hundred percent of the time. Look, why don't you come in for a minute, and I'll try to explain this a little better."

Ranma scowled, and nodded.

"And do calm down. I'm not discussing this while you're angry." Commander Hayes unlocked her door, and ushered him in. Five minutes passed while Hayes made a pot of tea. Ranma fidgeted, but fought to keep his temper under control.

Finally, the Commander sat down opposite Ranma and started to speak.

"The Angel Squadron concept began when I discovered that you could change genders basically at will. When I heard that you could interface with the Mecha better in female form. And when I heard from Major Fokker that females make better fighter pilots. You stated that you couldn't notice any difference in things like pain threshold, gee tolerance et cetera when you flew as a female. I've seen your dossier, Lieutenant. As a martial artist, you would have trained above levels normally attainable by either male or female. In fact, I'm willing to bet that your tolerances are so high that any benefits gained in female form are simply coals to Newcastle.

"This concept of an all-female fighter squadron was furthered when I interviewed several women in the U.N. Spacy. Mostly those who were showing dissatisfaction with their current duties. Many women did join the U.N. Spacy expecting to pilot Mecha. Your fiancee is one of those.

"Of course, it stands to reason that in an all-female fighter squadron, the pilots would resent a male commander--"

"Did you forget that my fiancee knows about the curse?"

"No...but will your fiancee tell anyone about it?"

"Probably not...but did you forget that the ward room of a fighter squadron only has one change area?"

Hayes frowned. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Suppose that, in my female form, I were to walk into the ladies' room in a restaurant downtown...and you were in there."

"Mmm...Good point. And your fiancee is a lot better trained in hand to hand than I am. I'll talk to Construction, get them to put in a separate compartment for you."

"Won't work, Commander. All that'll do is reinforce negative feelings between me and the squadron." He considered for a moment. "I'm just gonna have to tell 'em. Make sure they know what's goin' on. Ya gotta keep the faith, y'know?"

"Yes, I understand." Lisa nodded.

"Get that extra compartment put in anyway."

"You'll be needing it." Lisa leaned back, and sipped her tea. "So we're good with this?"

"Not at all." Ranma stood up. "But I've got my orders. At least you had the decency to give me an alternate identity to hide behind."

"Lieutenant--"

"Yes, ma'am?"

She sighed. "Never mind. As long as you follow orders, I have no place to complain about your opinion of those orders."

* * *

"Good morning."

The ward room was barely controlled chaos. Seventeen females of different sizes and appearances sat talking among themselves. When Ranma spoke, however, they fell silent.

"Before we start, I have something to tell you. I'm your commanding officer--"

One girl, only sixteen from the looks of her, jumped up. "Sir, I thought we were to be given a female CO?"

Ranma poured some water on his head. "As you can see, I'm a female part time."

There were immediate and loud complaints from at least half of the pilots. Ranma waited them out, then jerked a thumb towards a door behind him. "That's my change room. So you don't have to worry about me using my gender changing curse to peek on you or nothin'."

"Just our luck, we got a pervert for a CO," grumbled one girl.

"What's your name, girl?"

"Uh, Kanzaki Shoko, sir."

"Corporal Kanzaki, you can get this straight right now. It's a curse that makes me change gender. I'm not happy about it, and I'd get rid of it if I could. In this case, however, my bad fortune is your good luck. Commander Hayes decided that I should lead this squadron and ensure that the pilots in it are the best in the whole damn fleet. She decided this because despite my curse, I have been flying fighters for two years now, and have over twenty-five hours of combat. Need I remind you that bad pilots are weeded out in the first five minutes of combat?"

The room was completely silent. Being fresh from the Academy, not one of the girls present had seen combat at all.

"In a war, a unit needs to have complete confidence in their commander. I made sure all of you knew about this curse now, because it would sure as hell make you mad enough to chew nails if you found out about it later.

"Now then. I still have to organize this Squadron." She turned to the whiteboard and started jotting down names, both in Roman script and Kanji. When she was done, the names were organized into three columns.

"These are the flight assignments. They are based on your simulator scores. The two strongest pilots are lead for their respective flights. The five weakest pilots are under my lead."

"Uh, sir...ma'am..."

"Better make it ma'am, at least in public."

"Yes, ma'am...Why not have the five strongest pilots under your command?"

"What would they learn then? And who would the weakest learn from?"

"Oh...right. Sorry, ma'am."

"Don't apologize. You've completed basic and flight, but you're in this squadron to learn as much as to fight. Even stupid questions are better than no questions."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Then the flight leaders, besides myself, are Tendo Akane and Kanzaki Shoko. You'll be breveted to Warrant as soon as possible. Kanzaki, I don't have your dossier yet...are you a martial artist?"

"Uh...yes sir. Aikido, First Rank."

"Ah. Martial artists tend to make better Valkyrie pilots. Now, as to our first mission. We've been given a simple one first off, and I intend to make the most of what's normally wasted time. We have close patrol duty today. That means we'll be within visual range of the SDF-1 at all times. That also means that we have no actual navigation do be done. We just fly around the damn ship."

She sighed, and looked around the ready room. "Suit up and report to the launch deck."

* * *

"Thanks, Claudia." Lisa accepted the cup of coffee, and absently dropped a spoonful of sugar in it. "Right now, I really need this."

"I bet." Claudia's voice had an amused note to it. "What's eating you?"

"It's Lieutenant Saotome." She dropped a second spoonful of sugar into the coffee. "I gave him his new orders today, and he was...a little perturbed."

"And why wouldn't he be?" Claudia shrugged. "His first command, after all, and you hand him something rather bizarre."

"What's so bizarre about an all-female squadron? The Soviets had them during the Second World War."

"That's not what I'm referring to." Claudia sat down, and sipped her coffee. "What I'm referring to is the fact that you've basically created an alter ego for him. A phantom person, the part of which he has to play while he has command."

"So?"

"There's not a lot of precedent." Claudia glanced down as Lisa spooned another heap of sugar into her coffee. "Besides that, you've asked him to play the part of a female."

"He's half female as it is." Lisa scowled at her friend. "I mean, that was his real problem, when you get down to it. He's angry that he's been given a woman's job!" She dumped another sugar into her coffee.

Claudia shook her head. "No. He's angry that he's been given a job as a woman. There's a difference."

"So what?" Lisa added a bit more sugar to her coffee, and started to stir. "Is being a woman so tough? You don't hear you or I complaining about it."

"You don't hear us complaining about being a man, either."

"We're not men."

"But he is. Not just half the time, either; I'm willing to bet that mentally, he still considers himself a man."

"So? He has a gift. He shouldn't be allowed to waste it." Lisa dropped another spoonful of sugar into her coffee, and resumed stirring.

"Put yourself in his shoes. Imagine that it was you, being put into a squadron of men. As their commander, and with his curse."

"But he doesn't turn into a man!" Lisa dropped the spoon angrily.

"You're right." Claudia stared at her across her own coffee cup. "He doesn't."

"Oh, shit."

"Finally saw it, eh?"

"Yeah." She sighed, picked up the spoon, and began stirring again. "Okay, I can understand his anger. I can see how he might be upset. But it's not like I'm trying to insult his masculinity or anything."

"I know."

"He's in the top twenty of our available pilots, possibly the top five. And the fact that he can assume female form makes him perfect for this job."

"I agree." Claudia nodded. "I just want to make sure that you agree that he would be upset."

"Yeah." Lisa sighed, and picked up her coffee cup. "Trying to beat sense into him wouldn't help, because he's right."

"You sure about that?"

"Of course I am," snapped Lisa, and sipped her coffee.

And promptly spit the mouthful across the table.

"I meant the coffee, not Lieutenant Saotome." Claudia chuckled. "One sugar is usually your limit."


	9. 22: Thunder

**THUNDER**

"The Macross is attempting to make use of Uranus' gravitation in a 'slingshot' manoeuvre. Most of the Valkyrie forces are flying interference in the rings. The main reason we're not is that we're made up entirely of new graduates, so the powers that be don't think we've got enough experience. Personally, I think they're right."

"Nice to know you've got some confidence in us, ma'am."

"Hey, I've got every confidence in you. I just also realize that none of you has ever flown combat before. I, on the other hand, have seen far too much of it. I'd really rather not fly combat ever again."

The eighteen Valkyries of the newly-named Angel Squadron had drawn close patrol. As far as Ranma was concerned, this was the most boring job a fighter pilot could have. So, Ranma, secure in the knowledge that _anything_ could become training, decided to put the girls to work.

As a result, the Valkyries were flying heel-and-toe follow the leader around the battlecruiser. Each Valkyrie was expected to keep a distance of two thousand meters, plus or minus two hundred, from the one before it. Radar and laser range-finders were used to keep track of distances, and all the Valkyries uploaded their tracking data to Angel One.

"Yamagami, close it up. I've got a two point three klick gap showing there."

Ranma, of course, was not giving them an easy ride. So far, the hectic parade had buzzed the tower of the Prometheus, flown between the barrels of the railguns mounted on the Macross' 'shoulder' joints, flown between the massive booms of the reflex cannon itself, and even buzzed the Fortress' bridge. So far, they had drawn six complaints from various personnel for dangerous flying.

Ranma knew damn well that none of those complaints would ever materialize on paper in front of him. After all, this was training. He had learned at Kadena that even top brass turned a blind eye to trainees buzzing automobiles, flying under bridges, and using ECM gear to annoy civilian police radar traps. Anyone who couldn't buzz a car, fly under a bridge, or spoof the dinky little cop radars couldn't be relied upon in real combat.

And those who screwed up trying...would not screw up in combat.

Harsh? Well, yes. But combat flying was just as harsh a teacher, and usually with far more on the line than a poor pilot's life.

So far, the girls had proven really good. Compared even to him, they were doing better than any other first-time Valkyrie pilot. Of course, how well they'd do in battle was another story altogether, and remained to be seen.

Ranma had also thoughtfully arranged for each Valkyrie to be carrying a load of paint balls in the gun pods. Each fighter carried live ammo in the leg clips, but the initial load was training rounds. As extra incentive for avoiding fire, each pilot was expected to clean the paint, boiled hard in the depths of space, off of her fighter.

But that was for later.

"Captain. We have an audience."

Ranma glanced at the Flight Net. Angel Two, a Canadian girl named Amy Clark, had focused her imaging gear towards the bow of the Daedalus, where a Valkyrie hovered in Gerwalk. Its colours showed it to be part of the Blue Squadron.

"Hmmm...wonder what he wants?"

Ranma flicked the Tac Net to Blue's frequency.

"Angel One to Blue Fighter near Daedalus. Enjoying the show?"

"Of course, Angel One. When first I heard that an all female squadron was formed, I could not rest until I had feasted mine eyes upon the spectacle."

The Blue pilot spoke in antiquated Japanese. His image in the Tac Net screen showed only his eyes, the rest of his face being obscured by his helmet.

Those eyes were incredibly arrogant.

"Ain't much to look at with all of us in armour."

"But is it not true that the beauteous Tendo Akane is part of this squadron?"

"Oh, Kami-sama, not him, not now..."

Ranma raised an eyebrow. "Corporal Tendo...Can you explain this guy?"

"Ah...personal problem, ma'am. Just ignore him."

"Right. Angels, let's get back to work."

"Hold, Angel One. You must not merely ignore the great Kuno Tatewaki, rising star of the U. N. Spacy, the Blue Thunder of Macross."

"Where does this guy get his lines? Look, pal, shove off. Now. You're buggin' my pilots."

"For so fair a lass, you seem quite fierce. Shall we spar?"

Ranma ground her teeth. This guy was _really_ pushing his luck.

"I promise, I shall go easy on you."

"That's it. Angel Two, give this guy your gun."

"Aye aye, ma'am."

"Kuno, that gun pod is loaded with paint balls. First tag is a loss."

"I accept thy challenge."

Kuno grabbed the gun pod from Angel Two, and shifted to Soldier mode. Ranma did the same, and the two titanic figures faced off with each other.

"Kick his ass, Lieutenant!"

Kuno was the first to move. A snap of the wrist, and a short blast of paint balls leapt from his cannon.

And flew through empty air. Ranma had already flipped his Mecha around and was coming up on Kuno's back. Kuno rolled his fighter, shifted to Gerwalk and widened the gap.

The fight proceeded, Kuno snapping short bursts at Ranma, and failing to connect. Each time, Ranma succeeded in simply being elsewhere, and steadfastly refused to return fire.

In the cockpit of Angel Thirteen, Akane smirked. She'd sparred with Ranma some time back. Since both fought using the Anything Goes style, it had made sense to test their skills against one another. And much as was currently happening to Captain Kuno, she'd not managed to lay a finger on him. In fact, he'd won the match, with a single finger placed on the back of her head.

Eventually, Kuno's gun pod spooled on empty. He cursed, and reached for a replacement clip, forgetting that his own ammo was live.

Ranma thought his Mecha through a back flip kick that would have made Bruce Lee green with envy, knocking the replacement clip out of Kuno's grasp. He then proceeded to empty his own gun pod into Kuno's Mecha, painting a large Kanji across the chest of the Valkyrie. He jetted back, and admired his handiwork.

**INCOMPETENT**

"That was a nice little game, Kuno, but you better run along home now."

Laughter flooded the Tac Net as Kuno, shaking with rage, left the battlefield.

"Okay, kids, enough play time. Let's get back to work."

* * *

"I shall not tolerate it! The commander of the Angel Squadron - a mere female! - has mocked the name of Kuno Tatewaki! It cannot be allowed to pass!"

"Stow it, Kuno. And keep scraping that paint! Sounds to me like you got exactly what you deserved."

"Silence, knave! I must plot my revenge!"

* * *

One of the more difficult tricks to learn in a Valkyrie, though not likely one that the girls would be needing any time soon, was to reconfigure in forward flight, from Fighter mode to Gerwalk, matter-surfing to land, and then reconfiguring again to Soldier and moving to a full run. When done properly, it allowed a Valkyrie a stupendous advantage on the battlefield, as the unit could manoeuvre from one hot spot to another in less time than if it stuck to Gerwalk mode.

It also looked impressive as hell, as Ranma had demonstrated in the simulator. She'd done it in just under fifty meters, and had promised to buy a beer for any pilot who could do it in less.

Now she watched as Corporal Chen's simulated Valkyrie started to tumble and burn.

"Oh, that looks expensive." She snickered. "We're takin' that outta your pay, Corporal." She slapped the reset button, and said, "Try it again. This time without the fire and the dyin'."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you, Ranma?" Akane watched the simulated Angel Six start its next approach.

"What's the point in bein' the CO of a cadre unit if you can't laugh at the mistakes they make?" Ranma indicated the screen. "Besides, electrons are cheap."

"Don't you think it's a bit demeaning, though?" Warrant Kanzaki watched as the Valkyrie managed the Gerwalk landing, but stumbled and fell when reconfiguring. "Maybe you should be more encouraging, instead?"

"What, you want me to tell her she's doin' great? She's wrecked herself five times so far."

"Well...focus on the positive."

Ranma shook her head. "Doesn't work. You girls are fighter pilots. You've got to believe in yourself, no matter what anyone else tells ya. Especially your CO." She turned back to the screen, watched the simulated Valkyrie pull itself to its feet. "Nice try, Chen. I saw ya face-plant. You ain't foolin' me. Try it again, with less suck this time." She slapped the reset button again, and turned back to Akane and Shoko. "You two are flight leaders. In a cadre unit, yes, but they pay attention to that. I picked you two for two reasons. First, you got the best simulator scores in the squadron. So you know your shit. Second, I think you got what it takes to make officer grade, and get your own squadron.

"Now use those command instincts. You think these girls need to be coddled? Have all their bad practise reinforced? Or should I make 'em mad? Force 'em to out-perform themselves just to one-up me?" She glanced back at the screen, and watched as Chen performed the maneuver, textbook-perfect. "You see? This time, she nailed it."

Ranma opened the commo link to the sim tank. "Okay, Chen, I guess that'll have to do this time. Even though you needed six football fields to complete the slideout." She closed the link, and glanced over to Akane. "So what was that personal problem you had with Captain Kuno?"

"Oh..." Akane sighed. "He thinks he's God's gift to women, is all. Flight wings and gold bars equals super-stud. He's been hitting on me since I arrived at base. Even when I told him I was engaged, he only said, 'But not married.'"

"It's not just Akane, either," added Shoko. "I've heard scuttlebutt that he's been written up for propositioning some of the Navy officers. Like Lieutenant Commander Hayes."

"An honest-to-goodness writeup?" Ranma blinked. "Damn. Those go on your permanent record. He had to have done more than proposition Lisa. She's strict, but she ain't a martinet."

"By 'more', do you mean like, perhaps, grabbing her boob?"

Ranma blinked. "No friggin' way. He ain't that stupid."

"He practises kendo, and you'd think that'd strengthen his arms, especially his wrists." Akane snickered. "From what I heard, the counter-move the Commander used on him snapped his wrist like a dry twig."

* * *

"Officer on the deck!"

Angel Squadron, whose members had been chatting among themselves, snapped to attention as their commanding officer entered the briefing room. Beside Ranma was Lisa Hayes, newly promoted to full Commander and assigned as first officer of the SDF-1. Ranma saluted the Commander, then stepped aside to allow her the floor.

"At ease. As you all know, it was my decision and my project to create this squadron. I have read Lieutenant Saotome's efficiency reports, and I have decided that this squadron was, overall, a good idea. Your squadron has consistently outperformed any other in your class, and even a few existing units such as Blue or Sepia."

Cheers rung throughout the briefing room. Commander Hayes waited until they died down. "Therefore it is my pleasure to announce that Angel Squadron will be the first fully operational Valkyrie Squadron composed entirely of female pilots. Congratulations; your assignment here is permanent. A new unit, Firefly Squadron, will take over training of the next batch of female pilots, and the Captain has authorized the formation of further all-female squadrons.

"Furthermore, I am authorized to issue promotions to all of you to Sergeant, and to Tendo Akane and Kanzaki Shoko to the rank of Lieutenant, Second Class, and to Saotome Ranko to Captain. Increase in pay grade for all these ranks is immediate and permanent."

This time, the cheers were deafening. Hayes stepped away from the front, and Ranma took her place.

"So much for the good news. Now for the bad. Mayor Luan has announced a beauty pageant to choose a Miss Macross. Also, we've been ordered to take three days R-and-R. Oh, and need I remind you that we've got most of the female talent on this ship tied up in this room alone? It wouldn't break my heart if Angel Squadron also took that prize."

Chuckles.

"Get out of here. Enjoy your leave."

The pilots filed out of the room, and Lisa crumpled.

"Did that sound as insipid and stupid to you as it did to me?"

"Well, you were blowing your own horn a bit, but other than that..."

"Thanks." She grimaced. "I hate addressing crowds. Listen, Captain Saotome." She glanced away. "I want to apologize."

"Apologize for what?"

"I didn't really think it through, when I asked you to take this job." She looked back at him. "I realized later on, after I had a chance to think it over, why you couldn't have been very thrilled with the assignment."

Ranma frowned. "Commander, at any time did you feel that I might not be the most qualified person to lead this squadron?"

Lisa shook her head.

"In fact," continued Ranma, "I think I'm the only person qualified to lead it. Am I correct in that assessment as well?"

"We wanted a female squadron, right down to the CO. You were the closest thing we had to a female command officer."

"Then you have done nothing wrong." Ranma shrugged. "Maybe I over-reacted. No, scratch that. I was given orders that made sense, and I questioned them. Loudly. So I should be the one apologizing."

Lisa chuckled. "Your orders didn't make a helluva lot of sense. No apology needed."

"Fine. So we were both right, neither of us need to apologize, and we're all good now. Right?"

"Guess so." She glanced over at him. "I'm glad we got it out of the way, though. It was bothering me."

He shrugged. "Mark of a good officer. You look after your troops."

"Speaking of which. Here." Commander Hayes handed Ranma an envelope. "Promotion for your male side as well."

"Thanks." Ranma took the envelope, and shook his head. "I'd hate to be the one having to deal with the paperwork on this one."

"Oh, as to dealing with things...You need to learn to think before you speak. If I were you, I'd expect some backlash on that 'female talent' line."

* * *

"Well, you heard what the Captain said, right? She wants one of us to enter the beauty pageant, right?"

Akane frowned at Shoko. "You're not thinking of making me enter, are you?"

"No...Nothing that nice. I was thinking of entering Captain Saotome."

Akane grinned. "I like this plan..."


	10. 23: Serendipity

**SERENDIPITY**

The door to the White Dragon swung open. Through it staggered a rather large man, brown of hair and sharp of tooth. He wore a bandanna, and a rather thick travelling cloak. He glanced around the restaurant, a look of confusion turning quickly to despair. He threw back his head and bellowed, "Where the hell am I now?"

Minmei looked up in surprise at the intruder. His cloak had fallen open, revealing a yellow sweater and green pants. Both were dusty, and in need of repairs. Under one arm he carried a red bamboo umbrella.

"Why, you're in the White Dragon Restaurant, home of the best Chinese cuisine in Macross City."

"Macross City? You mean this isn't Nerima?"

Minmei blinked.

"Where can I find Saotome Ranma?"

"Yo, you lookin' for me?"

The stranger turned towards Ranma, who was just standing up near the Skull Squadron table, and raised the umbrella.

"Ranma! Prepare to die!"

"Huh?"

Ranma jumped backwards as the stranger brought his umbrella down on the table, demolishing it completely. Fokker, Kramer and Hunter, who were sitting with Ranma, stared at the remains of their favourite table. As one, they turned their gaze to Ranma's attacker.

"Um...Sorry?"

* * *

Fokker dropped the badly beaten stranger into a chair, then passed a fifty-credit note to Minmei. "Sorry about the other tables."

Ranma sat down opposite his erstwhile opponent. "Now. You wanna explain why it is that you attacked me?"

The stranger glared at him. "Curse you, Ranma. Because of your cowardice, I have seen hell!" He leaped forward, hands extended towards Ranma's throat.

Fokker interrupted the stranger's lunge, by simply pulling him back down into the chair. "You better have at least a halfway decent story, punk. Nobody accuses a Skull of cowardice. At least, not twice." He glanced up at Ranma. "Who the hell is this guy, kid?"

Ranma studied the stranger. "I'm not really sure. He seems familiar..."

The stranger ground his teeth. "Just answer me this, Ranma. Why did you run out on our man to man fight?"

Ranma snapped his fingers. "Hibiki Ryouga! How're ya doin', man?"

"So you do know him."

"Yeah," muttered Ranma. "Ryouga and I were in junior high school together for about a year before my father and I went off on another training trip. I used to help him find his way to school."

"Ah..." Roy looked puzzled. "Find his way...?"

"Yeah. Poor guy's got no sense of direction at all."

Roy nodded. "And what about this man to man fight?"

"Well, I waited three days at the appointed place..."

Ryouga snorted. "Oh, sure. But by the time I got there on the fourth day, you'd already turned tail and run!"

"Ryouga, why did it take you four days to get to the vacant lot behind your house?"

"What does that have to do with--"

Fokker pushed Ryouga back into his chair. "I'd advise you to calm down, sir. Now then. It seems to me that you defaulted on your little fight. As Saotome's commanding officer, I am hereby ordering him to accept victory in that fight. And I am ordering _you_ to accept your loss."

Ryouga considered this, then pointed out, "But you aren't my commanding officer. You can't order me to do anything."

"You wanna go another round?"

Ryouga looked at the four jet jockeys standing around him. Kramer cracked his knuckles in his palm and grinned at Ryouga.

It was not a nice grin.

"All right, fine. I accept my loss in that fight." His face darkened again. "But that's not all you have to pay for, Ranma. After you left, I followed you all the way to China!"

Ranma rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you went to Jushenkyo."

"You mean he's got a curse like yours?" Fokker grinned. "Too bad, huh?"

"Maybe, but maybe not. I mean, Pop's cursed too, but he don't change into no girl. He changes into a panda."

Roy guffawed. "So what about you, little boy? What do you change into?"

Kramer grabbed a glass of water. "One way to find out, eh, Roy?"

Ryouga looked at the glass, then burst out of Roy's grip.

"Get him!"

Ryouga jumped over the counter and ran into the kitchen. The pilots followed him.

"Where the hell did he go?"

The kitchen was empty. Nobody noticed the yellow sweater and green pants in one corner.

Roy shrugged. "Well, his backpack and umbrella are still here. He'll be back."

* * *

"You're joking! Please, tell me you're kidding about this!"

Ranma, Akane and Shoko were seated in the Angel Squadron's off-duty lounge. Akane had just dropped the Miss Macross application on the coffee table in front of the currently-female Ranma.

"Nope. Sorry, _Ranko_. You wanted someone in our squadron to enter the contest. Looks like you got the tap."

"Forget it! I'm not doing it! I'm a guy, dammit!"

Akane poked one of Ranma's breasts. "You don't look much like a guy at the moment."

Ranma grabbed his thermos and upended it over his head.

"Hmm, your thermos seems to be empty." Shoko smirked. "I wonder how that could have happened?"

Ranma cursed and cast aside the thermos. "Just forget it. There ain't no way you're gonna make me do this. Why don't you sign up, Shoko? I know why Akane isn't."

"Oh? And why is that, Ranma?"

"Because there's no way you'd win--"

**THUMP**

Akane grinned as she set down the large mallet. "All right, I'll make you a deal. We both sign up. Whoever wins gets squadron lead for a week."

"Hmm...Not like it'd be a transfer of command, just lead in all exercises...You got a deal!"

"Hey, for that kind of deal, I'll sign up as well." Shoko grinned. "It'd be nice to give you orders for a switch."

"Then it's settled." Akane dropped two more applications on the table. "Let's get these filled out. By the way, Ranma, my father wants you to come over for dinner tonight. I already explained to him about the curse."

"Joy."

"Well, don't sound so enthusiastic."

"Look, Akane, your dad really doesn't like me."

"Nonsense. He likes you just fine. Nabiki likes you too."

"Huh? When did I meet your sisters?"

"In the shelter. Remember? Kasumi was the one bandaging your head, and Nabiki was the one selling you the painkillers..."

"Oh. Right. Memory's a bit fuzzy about that time; musta been the mallet upside the head."

"You want another? Keep begging for it!"

* * *

"Hold!"

Ranma stopped and looked over to the speaker. It was a tall man dressed in a blue gi jacket and black hakama. Slung over his back was a bokken.

"Something I can do for you?"

"You will address me as Captain."

"Sorry, sir. How may I help you, Captain?" Ranma avoided glancing down at his own rank insignia.

"I just noticed you leaving the Angel Squadron ready room."

Ranma glanced at the door he had just exited. "Yes, sir. There a problem with that?"

"Surely you know that the Angel Squadron is composed entirely of females?"

"Well, yes, that had crossed my mind..."

"Then why were you in there?"

"Why not?"

The man purpled. "Your insolence is completely unbecoming an officer. What is your name, knave?"

Ranma grinned. He was certain that he knew who this guy was. "Saotome Ranma. And you're Kuno Tatewaki, right?"

"You will address me as Captain!"

"Why?" This time Ranma did glance down to his own insignia.

Kuno did not notice. "It is my rank, and you must show respect to those of higher station than yourself!"

"And what does that have to do with you?"

Kuno finally took the time to take in Ranma's insignia. The rank bars. The two rows of chicken guts. And the Skull Squadron patch.

"I...apologize. Please deliver this to the CO of the Angel Squadron."

Kuno handed the letter to Ranma and beat a hasty retreat.

* * *

"Hi, Minmei!"

"Hi yourself, Saotome! The usual?"

"Nope, just a couple of egg rolls today."

"Coming up." Minmei bounced into the kitchen. Ranma dropped into a chair at the Skull Squadron's table.

Well, strictly speaking, it wasn't exactly the same table. But it was in the usual place. The new table had materialized not even an hour after Ryouga had destroyed the old one. Lin Max liked to keep his regulars happy.

"So. Did Ryouga ever turn up again?"

Roy shook his head. "No. His pack and stuff is still behind the counter. Minmei even found a change of his clothes in the kitchen."

"He's probably in Kyoto by now."

Roy looked at Ranma oddly. "Uh, that would be a good trick, considering that Kyoto is on Earth."

"That won't slow him down. After all, I last saw him in Juuban."

"...Right. So how's your squadron coming along?"

Minmei set the egg rolls in front of Ranma, then went to serve another customer.

"Seems you were right about female pilots. My crew is shaping up to be the best on the ship."

Roy snorted. "Not as long as the Skull is still around."

"Okay, the best except for Skull. But considering that my girls outflew Green on our last exercise, I'd say Kramer's napping."

"You don't wanna say that to his face. But yeah, I've seen your girls fly. They're shit hot."

The bell rang as the door to the restaurant opened, and Kuno, this time in a flight suit, swaggered in and sat down.

Roy glared at him. "This table is property of the Skull Squadron, little man. I suggest you move."

"Not once in my travels to this establishment have I ever noticed the Skull Squadron's name on this table. But never fear, Fokker. I am here for but a moment. Saotome, did you deliver my message?"

"Yeah, Kuno."

"Excellent. I was worried that one of your obvious low intellect might fail in that task."

Ranma ground his teeth.

"Kuno." Fokker motioned with his hand. "Move along. That seat is reserved for one Tendo Akane."

Kuno looked puzzled. "But Tendo Akane is a member of the illustrious Angel Squadron, not of your insignificant group."

Fokker scowled. "Move it or lose it, Kuno. Akane sits there because she's engaged to Ranma--"

"_What?_"

Kuno jumped up with an expression of shock on his face.

"The beauteous Tendo Akane, engaged to the likes of..._him?_ I shall never allow it! Saotome, you cur, you must be punished!"

With one motion, Kuno drew his bokken and swung at Ranma. Ranma leaped straight up, and Kuno's bokken slammed into the table.

"This is no place to fight, Kuno. Follow me."

"That I shall!"

Roy scowled down at the wreckage of the table. "Fuck! That's twice in one week!"

Ranma stepped outside the restaurant, followed by Roy and Kuno, and assumed a fighting stance. Kuno stood opposite him, bokken raised. Roy leaned up against the wall.

"Before we begin, Saotome, allow me to state my name and abilities, so that you will fully realize who it is that has defeated you. I am Captain Kuno Tatewaki, newly appointed commander of the Blue Squadron, rising star of the United Nations Space Defense Force. My peers call me the Blue Thunder.

"And who are you?"

Ranma grinned. "I am a Saotome Ryuu of the Mutsabetsu Kakotu, Captain in the Robotech Defense Force. My name is Saotome Ranma."

"Begin!"

Ranma feinted forward in a lunge punch, then swept his hand in a knife edge, snapping Kuno's bokken cleanly. Kuno gaped at his demolished weapon.

"Blew it."

One good quick kick to the head laid the Captain out colder than a mackerel.

"Nice shot, Ranma." Roy was applauding from the sidelines. "The MPs will be here to pick him up any second now."

"Why call the MPs? It was a man to man fight."

"Yeah, but he attacked an officer. Meaning you. Chances are he'll get off light, but it might teach him to keep a handle on his temper."

"Hm." Ranma pulled a piece of paper from a pocket on his flight suit, glanced at it, then crumpled it. "I guess I don't need to worry about this, then."

"What's that?"

"A letter of challenge. Addressed to, 'The Fierce but Lovely Commander of the Angel Squadron', end quote."

Roy grinned. "Yeah, just ignore it. Come on, your egg rolls are getting cold."

"One second more..." Ranma flipped Kuno over, and quickly searched his pockets. He straightened, and tossed Roy a twenty-credit note. "This should cover the damage to the table."


	11. 24: Saturn

**SATURN**

"Officer on the deck!"

The pilots in the wardroom fell silent and snapped to attention. Ranma picked up the glass of water from his desk and upended it over her head.

"The slingshot maneuver two weeks ago was successful enough that it shaved a month off of our overall travel time. The CO has decided that it's worth repeating.

"We are now approaching the planet Saturn. The Macross with attempt a slingshot of the planet. Since Saturn is much larger than Uranus, and has a correspondingly higher gravity, we should get a better boost from it. We will not be attempting this maneuver with Jupiter, as it is too far out of arc.

"Angel Squadron will be running interference for the slingshot. We'll be flying through the rings of Saturn. That means a lot of rocks. Yeah, they look real pretty from a distance, but up close, it's not gonna be pleasant. So look sharp out there. We'll be working in conjunction with Skull Squadron, Green Squadron and Blue Squadron--"

**SNAP**

"Something you want to add to this briefing, Lieutenant?"

Tendo Akane dropped the two pieces of her pencil. "No, sir."

Saotome grinned. "Don't worry, last I heard, Kuno's in the clink."

A chuckle went around the room. Most of the women present had had to fend off Kuno at one point or another.

"Right. Suit up and get ready to launch."

* * *

Sergeant Amy Clark, Angel Two, finished her pre-flight, and began taxiing her fighter towards the catapults. Her suit was environmentally sealed, of course, which meant that there was no way for her to wipe the sweat off the palms of her hands. The Flight Net visual flickered, and the CO's helmeted face appeared in the monitor.

"Ready to party, Clark?"

"Uh...yeah. I mean, yes, ma'am."

"Nervous?"

"Ah...yes, ma'am."

"Good. This is your first real mission. We're hopin' for no enemy contact, but if it happens, be ready for it. Stay nervous; it'll help keep you alive. Just remember, though: Your best friend is your jet. Trust in your bird, and it will not let you down."

"Aye, sir."

The CO chuckled. "Don't worry, Clark. The odds are really against our running into bad guys. Skull has a further perimeter to patrol than us, so any aliens that want to party will hit their pickets first."

"Ah...thank you, ma'am."

"Oh, and by the way. Your simulator scores showed a lot of improvement, and your handling of the bird has come a long way. Of the entire team, you've shown the most improvement overall. So I've put myself on your wing for this sortie."

"Ma'am, do you mean I'm wing commander for this sortie?"

"Yep. I'm retaining flight and squadron leader, but I am on your wing, and not the other way around. So don't disappoint me, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

Ranma clicked off the Tac Net and grinned to herself. What she hadn't told Clark - and wouldn't, not now and not ever - was that the wingman took the majority of the beating in a real firefight. Clark had improved, but was nowhere near as good as Akane or even Kanzaki. But Ranma recognized that she could improve still further, especially after being blooded.

_I just gotta give her a chance to keep on improvin'._

The Tac Net squawked on audio. "Angel One, Macross. Your flight has been demoted to Alert Five Status. Clear the catapults."

Ranma scowled. The voice was that of Lieutenant Grant, commo officer and second officer of the Macross' naval compliment. Ranma slapped open the Tac Net command channel. "Macross, Angel One. What the hell is going on?"

"Angel One, Macross. Skull Squadron has reported contact with alien battle pods in the rings of Saturn. Blue is now scrambling to intercept, on orders of Colonel Maistroff."

Ranma growled. Maistroff was an RDF Colonel, not actually part of U.N. Spacy Chain of Command at all. "And where the hell is Commander Hayes? Why is an RDF officer directing this operation?"

"Angel One, Macross. Commo protocol, Angel One. Commander Hayes is not available at this time."

Ranma cursed, then opened the net. "Macross, Angel One. Angel Squadron confirms Alert Five. Blue Leader, this is Angel One. Good Hunting."

"Angel One, Blue Leader. My thanks to thee, pigtailed goddess."

"HUH? Kuno, thought you were off the flight list."

"Nay, though the evil Saotome thought to place me in an incriminating situation, the forces of law and order saw through his vile scheme and, recognizing my virtuous nature and skill in battle, returned me to active duty. Didst not that vile cur, Saotome Ranma of the thrice-cursed Skull Squadron, deliver my missive to thee? Thou didst not appear at the appointed time and place."

"Blue Leader, Macross. Get off the net and get airborne."

"Macross, Blue Leader. Aye."

* * *

Ranma jumped out of the Valkyrie's cockpit the moment she finished taxiing. She pulled off her helmet and stormed out of the hangar.

Commander Hayes met up with her at the hangar's hatch. "Captain Saotome! Please, I need to tell you--"

"What the hell just happened, Commander? Why were we pulled off the cats? And who the hell does Colonel Maistroff think he is? He violated chain of command! Why was he giving orders to Valkyrie pilots? Why was he even on the bridge? What was Grant thinkin', even listening to him? What could a Ground Forces Colonel possibly-"

"Atten-SHUN!"

Ranma involuntarily snapped to attention, and just as involuntarily shut up.

"Now then. I am not prepared to tell you why Maistroff was in command during your flight's duty. Sorry, but that information is classified. Suffice it to say that Captain Gloval's attention, and my own, were needed elsewhere. I will tell you, however, that I'm not pleased with it. A mud-mover, commanding a ship of the line! Second, I don't know why he scrubbed your launch, so I can't tell you that either."

"Can't or won't?"

"I swear to you, Ranma, that if I knew, I would tell you, classified or no. But Maistroff did not give any reason for scrubbing your team. My guess, however, is their lack of experience."

"Dammit, Commander, how the hell are my girls gonna get the experience if they never see action? They need combat time!"

Hayes scowled. "Are you that anxious to have your people killed?"

Ranma flushed. "No. But look. These girls have been trained and polished. They are a fighting team now, a damned good one. I'd put them up against Skull any day of the week. But you can only learn so much, can only get so good during peacetime operations. You know and I know that the only way we're gonna win this one, the only chance we have of getting home, is the Valkyrie pilots. You need every one you can get. And you got eighteen of them sittin' here doin' nothin'."

"Ranma, this bothers me as much as it does you, okay? Don't razz me on this one."

"Look, we were scrubbed. And that Uranus mission, we were slated for deep recon, and we got close patrol. This time, we got to be deck ornaments. You scrub us again, and my girls are gonna get real mad. You tell this to whoever it is who puts these flight schedules together. You do this to us again, and your little project here is toast."

"I'm on your side, Captain. Believe me." Commander Hayes sighed. "We're all trying to do our best. Keep the faith, okay?"

Ranma sighed, and nodded.

* * *

Ranma walked into the White Dragon, still in his female form. She dropped into a chair at the Skull Squadron table. Skull was still out there, mopping up bandits and paving the road for the Macross, so for the moment, she had the table to himself.

Minmei walked over with a small teapot and set it down in front of Ranma.

"Huh? I didn't order tea."

"It's just hot water."

"Oh, thanks."

"No problem. Mind if I sit with you?"

"Go ahead."

Minmei sat down opposite him as she poured the contents of the teapot over her - now his - head.

"Whatcha doin'?"

Minmei had a pen in hand and a sheet of paper in front of her, and was scratching something out. "I'm writing a song. I've gotta have a talent to show off for the beauty pageant, and I always loved to sing."

"Yeah? I don't really sing much...used to a bit, though. Wait - you mean you're in this Miss Macross pageant?"

"Yes! I'm sure I can win!" Minmei beamed.

Ranma cracked a grin. "The girls in my squadron got funny on me. They signed me up in my female form."

"Well, don't worry. You aren't going to win."

"Gee, thanks."

The bells rang as the door to the restaurant opened. Ranma glanced up to see Kasumi, Akane's older sister, coming into the restaurant.

"Hi, Kasumi!"

"Hello, Ranma! I'm glad I found you here." Minmei hopped up and Kasumi took the seat across from Ranma. "I need to talk to you about your father."

"Oh, no." Ranma rolled his eyes. "What's he done now?"

"Well, it seems he's insisting on moving into our house. We have a spare room now, since when the house was rebuilt, Akane got her own room. But now she stays at the barracks, and your father insists that he should get that room."

"Stupid old man. Let me deal with him."

"Thank you, Ranma."

"_Ranma!_ Prepare to die!"

Ranma's head swiveled fast enough to give him whiplash, to see Hibiki Ryouga approaching, umbrella on high. He jumped up and kicked the umbrella out of Ryouga's hand.

"Dammit, Ryouga, Kasumi's not a martial artist. You got a problem with me, we can take it outside."

"Fine! Your days of running are over, Ranma!"

* * *

The two combatants faced each other in the middle of the street outside the White Dragon. Minmei and Kasumi stood at the door of the restaurant.

"Now, Ranma, you'll pay for making my life a living hell!"

"Yeah, whatever, Ryouga. Let's go."

Ryouga launched himself into the air, aiming the tip of the umbrella at Ranma's head. Ranma dodged the attack, then launched a series of snap-kicks at Ryouga's torso. Ryouga blocked most of them, but Ranma felt at least two solid hits connect. He followed up with two snap-punches to the head.

Ryouga collapsed backward, falling onto the road. Ranma dusted off his hands. "That's that."

"Not so fast, Ranma."

"Huh?"

Ranma watched in amazement as the Lost Boy staggered back to his feet. "I am not yet defeated." Ryouga pulled off his bandanna - revealing another underneath - and snapped it in his hand. The bandanna stiffened, becoming a cloth blade. Ryouga threw the bandanna, spinning, at Ranma's head.

"Yow!" Ranma dodged the bandanna, then felt another wrap around his wrist. He looked down, and saw that the second bandanna had a rope attached. Ryouga was just finishing tying the rope to his own wrist.

"Now you won't be running anymore."

"Are you insane? Is that your problem?" Ranma jumped towards Ryouga, foot extended. Ryouga parried, then swung his massive umbrella at Ranma. Ranma dodged, and was amazed to see the umbrella smash through a concrete lamppost. He kicked the umbrella, and watched it go flying across the road.

Ryouga pulled off three more bandannas, and sent them whirling towards Ranma. Ranma dodged them, then to his horror realized that Minmei and Kasumi lay in their path.

"You two! Move, quick!"

Even as he yelled, the girls were scattering. The bandannas embedded themselves into the front of the restaurant.

"All right! That's it!"

Ranma closed quickly, and lashed out with fist, elbow and knee. Ryouga staggered back, gasping for air, and collapsed. Ranma untied the rope at his wrist, then walked over and picked up Ryouga, slamming him against the restaurant wall.

"You get this straight, Lost Boy. You can attack me, or any member of the U.N. Spacy. We can take care of ourselves. Roy and Kramer proved that on your carcass, but good. But don't ever attack those girls, or anyone like them, as long as I'm around. And I wouldn't recommend doin' it if there's any other soldiers around. Got it, numbskull?"

Ryouga nodded, hate smouldering in his eyes.

"Fine." Ranma dropped him, then turned back towards the restaurant door. "I'm starved. You girls want anything?"

* * *

"Oi, old man!" Ranma banged on the door of the apartment. "We gotta talk!"

The door opened, and Genma looked out. "What do you want?" he snapped.

"Hey, what's eatin' you?"

"What's eating me is that you have not come to visit me, have in fact ignored me and missed a great deal of practice, ever since you joined the U.N. Spacy. And I know that the only reason you have for being here at this time is that Kasumi asked you to interfere on her behalf."

Ranma darked. "Look, oyaji, you got a place here, okay? U.N. Spacy gives it to you, free of charge, even gives you meal tickets. I know that the twenty hours of community service has gotta really hurt you, since it means work, but-"

"Ranma! You have gone against your father's wishes in every way! You have abandoned the Art, betrayed your family, joined the army, and refused to honour your family's commitments!"

"Look! I have not abandoned the Art! I still practice every day, and I've been in a few battles and won handily every time! I have not betrayed my family! I'm just tryin' to help out the Tendos. They have enough problems without you. You yourself said that joinin' U.N. Spacy was okay. And what commitments exactly am I not honouring?"

"When do you intend to wed Tendo Akane?"

"Once both of us finish our tour of duty! Now that I've answered all your stinkin' questions, I gotta go."

"You going to the beauty pageant?"

"Yeah, and I only got another hour to register."

Genma scowled. "...Register? Surely you are not entering the contest?"

"Well, yeah. Bit of a challenge, between me and my flight leaders."

"Ranma. Come inside for a moment. This is very important."

"Huh? Okay..."

Ranma walked into the apartment. He looked around - this was the first time he'd ever been in his father's apartment. The room held a futon, a low table, and a few odds and ends. His father rummaged around in his old backpack, eventually producing a small wooden box. He opened the box, pulled out a scroll, and handed it to Ranma.

"Read this."

Ranma unrolled the scroll - it was fairly yellowed, but not particularly old. "'I, Saotome Genma, being of sound mind and body' - yeah, right - 'do hereby take solemn oath to raise my son, Saotome Ranma, to be a true master of the Saotome School of Indiscriminate Grappling, and a man among men, to be judged by Saotome Nodoka, and also swear that should I fail, both myself and Ranma shall give our lives in apology for our failure.'"

The scroll was signed by Genma, and also held a small handprint.

"Who's Saotome Nodoka? An Elder of the Clan?"

"Not exactly. She's your mother."

"...my mother? My _mother? _You told me she was dead!"

"Well, she's not. Now you think about this. If you enter this contest - as a girl! - and your mother hears about it, what's she gonna think?"


	12. 25: Pageant

**PAGEANT**

"Now what if none of us win this? How do we determine who won the bet?"

"Don't worry, Akane. One of us is gonna win for sure."

"There! I'm signed in. Ranko, your turn."

Ranma scrawled in her name, date of birth and age, then signed the disclaimer.

"But if one of us doesn't?"

"Look, Akane, there'll be five finalists, and there's only thirty contestants. All five finalists are rated by the end of this thing. If by some disaster none of us make it into the finals, then we'll have a problem. And as long as you didn't choose cooking for the talent portion--"

**WHAM**

Akane shouldered her mallet. "Beg pardon, Ranko?"

"Never mind. Uncute tomboy-"

**WHAM WHAM WHAM**

"Boy," mused Shoko. "It's a good thing she heals fast."

* * *

The pageant was rather small compared to similar earth-bound events. This was not only because of the small population of Macross, and the correspondingly small number of contestants, but also because of the lower available resources.

Mayor Luan had pulled out most of the stops for this event, however, and there was a good-sized amphitheatre - known as the Star Bowl - built for the contest, capable of seating twenty thousand people. And almost certainly, the sixty thousand that couldn't fit were watching the event at home on their television sets.

There were five events. The first was evening wear. Each girl was required to pick out an evening gown and would be judged by that as much as by her appearance. Ranma had little to no clue how to proceed, but in exchange for getting Genma off of the Tendo's backs, Kasumi had helped him out a bit. Lessons on appropriate clothing, use of makeup and so on...Ranma shuddered as he considered his discussion with his father. If his mother _ever_ heard about this...

The girls had a common dressing room, but each girl had her own cubicle to change in. Ranma looked over the competition as he entered. Among them were some familiar faces: Lin Minmei, of course, and an American woman named Jan Arden. Jan did the morning television news show, "Good Morning, Macross!" He had to admit, she was quite good looking, even though she was in her thirties. And of course, Shoko and Akane were there, as well as Tendo Nabiki.

"Yo, Nabiki, why are you in this thing?"

She smiled coyly. "What's the matter, Ranko? Don't think I have what it takes to win?"

"Well...I just thought it wouldn't be your style, y'know?"

"Well, just think of the prize money."

"Right, I understand."

Among those that he didn't recognize were a tall, auburn-haired woman, a woman whose spiky hair was dyed cyan, and whose eyes looked disturbingly feline, a teenaged Japanese girl he remembered seeing at the temple - very beautiful, with red highlights in her long black hair - and another girl in U. N. Spacy uniform - very cute, freckle-faced and bespectacled, though she was just unpacking her contacts. Could be a contender...

"Could you possibly leer at them any more, Ranko?"

"Huh?" Ranma glanced at Akane, who was looking at him smoulderingly. "Whaddaya mean, leering? I'm just sizing up the competition."

"I don't see you sizing me and Shoko up."

"I see you guys every day. Get a grip, willya?"

Then Ranma spotted another girl he recognized. Long hair, with two balls on either side, a red silk cheongsam..."Oh, no..."

"You! Outsider girl! You die!"

The Chinese girl lunged towards Ranma, hands raised to strike. Ranma dodged, grabbed an arm, and slammed her to the ground.

"Look, Shampoo, you're never gonna beat me, got it? Quit tryin'."

"One day, I catch you not looking, then you die." She blinked. "You in contest?"

"Huh? Yeah, why?"

Shampoo smirked. "Then I win here, you die. You win, I stop trying to kill. Is fair?"

"I guess, if you really want it that way..."

"Fine. Shan Pu need get ready now."

She bounced back through the crowd of girls.

"Who was that?"

Ranma sighed. "As best I can say it, her name is Shampoo. Pop and I went through her village after we left Jushenkyou, and I ended up fighting against her. Since then, she's been chasing me all over the world. I thought she'd lost me when I joined U.N. Spacy. At least, I haven't seen her since then."

"She sure is cute. You better hope you don't lose, Ranko."

"Cute? She's trying to kill me!"

"Well, I gotta go get ready for the contest." She leaned over and whispered in his ear. "You peek at _any_ of us while we're changing, and you won't have to worry about Shampoo killing you, got it, pervert?"

"H-Hai."

* * *

"Next is number eleven, Saotome Ranko, age nineteen. Born in Nerima and raised to a life of martial arts, Ranko joined the U. N. Spacy at age sixteen and rose through the ranks until she became commander of the newly formed Angel Squadron."

Thank the Kami for my balance training, mused Ranma as she made her entrance. She was wearing a grey strapless gown, a little more severe than most of the other contestants. As she had been coached, she walked the length of the runway, turned around a complete 360, then walked back up the runway. Damn high heels - How the heck do girls walk in these things anyway? She flashed a big smile across the crowds as she took her place next to Shoko in the line-up at the end of the stage. The announcer - Vance Hasslewood - walked up to her, microphone in hand.

"Ranko, can you tell the panel of judges about your views of women in the military?"

Ranma paused. "Well, I think that some of the most skilled people in the U.N. Spacy are female. I mean, only about ten percent of the U.N. Spacy is female, but those ten percent are all in the top twenty five percent in their fields. I can't really speak for the RDF, but I imagine the numbers are similar. Heck, the best soldier I know is female. I'm not gonna name names, though - she might be my CO. Or worse yet, she might not."

A laugh ran through the crowd at that.

* * *

After the first two events, the line of girls filed off the stage. Ranma sighed in relief as he pulled off the heels. Fifteen girls had gotten dropped from the competition, between the evening wear and the vocal event. Among those dropped were the cyan-haired woman with the disturbing eyes, the auburn-haired woman - an excellent voice, he wasn't sure why she'd been dropped - and the U.N. Spacy Ensign, Sammie Porter. Shoko and Minmei were still in, as were both Tendo sisters.

"Hey, Ranko! I didn't know you could sing that well!" Minmei bounced over and hugged Ranma quickly. Ranma glanced nervously at Akane, but luckily she was looking elsewhere.

"Yeah...I kinda spent a lot of time singing on the road. Makes the day shorter, y'know?"

"I bet! Gotta get ready for the next event!" She bounced off again.

Ranma sighed. The next event was the talent portion. She knew Minmei would be singing again - this time a song that she had written herself. Akane would also be singing, Shoko would be dancing - a good choice for the energetic pilot - and she had no idea at all what Nabiki had planned. Ranma reached for her gi.

* * *

The gi was all red silk, and billowed at the cuffs of both arms and legs. Ranma doubted she'd ever wear something so...flamboyant...in a real fight, but she had to admit that it allowed her considerably more freedom of movement than her usual heavy cotton gi. The jacket of the gi reached almost to her knees, and was belted with a wide black obi. On her feet were dark red slippers, specially made with treaded rubber soles for traction.

Vance Hasslewood was hassling her again. "Ranko, why don't you tell us what you have planned for us?" "Well, most of my life has been spent practicing martial arts. I've studied aikido, kempo, ta'i chi, goju and shotokan karate and jiu jitsu, as well as my family's style of Musabetsa Kakotou, or as I call it, Anything Goes. Most people think of martial arts as violent. But I've found that it can be an art beyond the martial. A well-executed kata is a thing of beauty. So I've put together a kata, involving elements of ta'i chi, jujitsu, aikido and the Musabetsa Kakotou, set to music."

"Martial arts dancing?"

"Yeah...I guess you could call it that."

"Great! The stage is yours!"

Hasslewood moved quickly out of her way, and Ranma grinned. Did he really think she was going to pound him or something?

She assumed a ready position - not an easy one, but she held it - then reached to her center and found her inner balance. The music she had chosen began - a rearrangement of Pink Floyd's "Echoes", purely instrumental. She held the ready position all through the opening bars, then began to move.

If performed at full speed, this kata would take approximately three minutes to complete. She did it extremely slowly - she had twenty minutes of song to fill. Her movements were graceful, even and measured, one flowing into another. Her feet rarely left the ground, and most of the kata was carried by her hands.

The music picked up in tempo, entering a guitar solo, and her kata flowed into a jiu jitsu routine. Now it included punches and kicks, delivered with precision and panache. Her eyes were completely closed, and she lost herself to the rhythm of the kata.

The solo faded out, and Ranma allowed her rhythm to slow, then stop. The next part of the song was mostly synth and whalesong. Her kata shifted back to a slow pattern again, drawing on aikido and ta'i chi. This portion, the Art was at its slowest - maneuvers that could be performed in under a second, stretched out as long as half a minute in spaces. It was also the portion requiring the most concentration and stamina, as holding the positions could be quite painful.

The final part of the song began, similar to the first, and Ranma switched back to the Musabetsa Kakotou. The finale was thunderous, and faded swiftly to silence, leaving Ranma in the ready stance she had started in.

Then the applause from the audience was thunderous. Ranma straightened, then bowed towards them before exiting the stage.

* * *

Again Ranma was strutting her stuff up and down the runway. Her bathing suit was a pink one-piece, cut high at the legs and low at the neck, with flower-like lacework along the front. She and Kasumi had spent almost three hours arguing about this one. Even though the final choice was a compromise, it still gave her cavities just to look at the damned thing.

She glanced at the other contestants. Only ten girls were left, five additional (including Nabiki) having been dropped during the talent portion of the contest. She doubted that Shoko would last another round, and guessing how...modest...Minmei's bathing suit was, she'd probably be disappearing right soon.

Akane's suit was equally modest...but she filled it out quite nicely...

* * *

"And now, our five finalists, in alphabetic order...

"Jan Arden, anchorwoman on 'Good Morning, Macross!'"

Considerable cheers greeted Jan as she crossed over and sat in the first seat in Finalist's Row. Jan was quite popular on the Macross, and tuning into her show was often the first thing that most people did upon waking up in the morning. For Ranma, "Good Morning, Macross!" was second only to that first cup of coffee.

"Lin Minmei, of the famous White Dragon Restaurant!"

The cheers were deafening; the White Dragon was, quite literally, the heart of the rebuilt Macross City, and Minmei was already sweetheart of the ship. She bounced out to Finalist's Row, blowing kisses to the crowd.

"Saotome Ranko, commanding officer of the Angel Squadron!"

She grinned as she made her way out to her seat. Her own cheering section was quite vocal, including the entire fighter complement of the Macross.

"Tendo Akane, also from the Angel Squadron!"

Akane's cheering section was the same as Ranma's. Akane beamed at the crowd, and walked down to her seat. Ranma leaned over.

"Gonna lose points on your entrance. Y'know this, right?"

"Shut up. Shoko's out of it."

"Yep. Wonder who's left?"

"And finally, Shan Pu, of the Niuchezu Tribe of China!"

Shampoo bounced across the stage, waved to the crowd, then dropped into her seat. Ranma was seriously worried about the amount of cheers she was receiving; Shampoo was a cipher. All of the other girls had something backing them up, either in the U.N. Spacy or in Macross City. Shampoo had made it this far on innate ability.

"As explained in the rules of the contest, the panel of judges will now ask each finalist a question. Each question will be different for each finalist, and each finalist will have no more than five minutes to deliver her answer. Then you, the audience, both here in the stadium and watching from your homes, will lock in your votes. Are the judges ready?"

Th panel of judges was made up of five people: Thomas Luan, mayor of Macross City; Henry Gloval, who looked like he'd really rather be somewhere else; Mark Kramer; and two other people Ranma didn't recognize. One of those rose and addressed Hasslewood.

"We are ready. The first question goes to Jan Arden. In your mind, what problems do the youth of Macross City face above and beyond those faced by young people growing up on Earth?"

Jan stood and picked up her microphone. "I think that the problems faced by the young people of the Macross community are no different from those faced by children of Earth. While our situation is precarious, so are those of countless children in, say, the old Soviet Union, in Thailand or any other third world country.

"We have developed here a complete community, a microcosm of Earth. We have malls, we have restaurants, we have television and radio stations and we are even preparing to begin filming movies. Our culture has remained the same, even through all our trials. All that is different is the scale."

Jan sat back down, looking mightily pleased with herself. Ranma shook her head absently. _Blew it._

The second panelist stood. "This question is for Lin Minmei. Would you please tell us your views on competition?"

Minmei looked thoughtful. "I think that competition is what spurs us on to accomplish bigger and better things. It gives us drive, and pushes us on. I mean, if you're competing against someone else, like for instance the talent portion of this contest, you know that you have to give it your all, because if you don't deliver your best, someone else may deliver just one step better.

"Now I know that too much competition is a bad thing. I mean, if you let it control your life, you can get very bitter, because too often, there _is_ someone better than you. But if you keep a healthy attitude, and keep your perspective intact, you can easily make your competitive spirit a good thing."

Ranma grinned. _Girl's deeper than she acts at times. Still, that wasn't completely thought out. She better have some points saved up from earlier on..._

Mark Kramer stood, with an evil grin on his face. "This question's for Ranko Saotome. Why don't you tell us about your views on love?"

_You're a dead man, Kramer._

Ranko nervously stood and picked up the microphone. She could feel Akane's eyes burning into her. "Personally, I think love is the most important thing anyone can have. It's a catalyst. Any bad situation can be improved upon with a generous dose of it, and any good situation made that much nicer.

"But it's a give and take situation as well. If neglected, it can wither. If stressed, it can break. But if nurtured and returned, it can grow."

She sat back down and shook her head slightly. _Man, was that lame! I'm gonna have Kramer's hide, nail it to the ready room wall, and rub salt where it used to be._

Henry Gloval stood. "This question is for Tendo Akane. We have already asked your commanding officer her views on women in the military. Can you tell us of your view of the future of women on the battlefield?"

Akane grinned. "I think that women can be just as good in the battlefield as men, and I think we're going to see a lot more women going to combat positions. The Angel Squadron proved that many of the women in non-combat positions were unhappy with these postings, and not only had the desire, but the ability to serve in a combat position. Personally, I think that the Angel Squadron, which has consistently out-performed almost every other squadron on this ship, proves that we have what it takes."

Akane's answer was the only one so far to provoke any applause from the crowd. It was light and scattered, but it was there.

Tommy Luan stood. "This last question is for Shampoo." Ranma grinned at the man's mispronunciation. "Can you tell us your views on happiness?"

Shan Pu stood and picked up her microphone carefully. "Shan Pu know that happiness is something not always there. When it there, must enjoy to fullest. When not there, must work to make it. Can always make happiness if know how; but must want it." She set down the microphone and took her seat.

Vance Hasslewood stepped forward. "Now comes the voting. For those of you in the audience, you'll find a small box with five numbered buttons. Press the button corresponding to the finalist you wish to vote for. For you folks at home, dial the number on your screen, enter your ID code, then press the number of the finalist you vote for. You have five minutes to vote."

Ranma snickered. She leaned over to Akane. "We had five minutes to speak, and I don't think this'll take any longer than any one of us took. Bets?"

"Nope."

Sure enough, the technicians announced fifty thousand returns - this being the cutoff threshold - within two minutes. The head technician delivered the results to Hasslewood in a sealed envelope. Vance made a great production out of opening the envelope and removing the results.

"Here we go! In the number four position...Tendo Akane."

There was light applause, mostly from the U.N. Spacy contingent. Akane sulked.

"Guess you get to go on being Squadron Commander."

"You don't know that. I could still place last."

"In the number three position...Shan Pu."

More applause. Shan Pu visibly wilted, then glanced sadly over to Ranma.

"In the number two position...Saotome Ranko."

Ranma shrugged and grinned. At least she beat out Shan Pu. Heck, she never wanted to win this thing anyway. She eyeballed the remaining two contestants.

"And the winner of the Miss Macross Beauty Pageant..."

Ranma noted Jan Arden, half rising, ready to take the prize...

"Lin Minmei!"

Minmei squealed and launched herself from her chair, running forward to hug Hasslewood. Ranma grinned, watching her, then glanced back over to Jan.

Her eyes were following Minmei, smouldering with rage.

* * *

Ranma and Akane had just left the Star Bowl when Shan Pu dropped down in front of them. She fell at Ranma's feet.

"Shan Pu fail. Outsider female defeat mightiest Niuchezu warrior again. Shan Pu have no honour left. No can return to tribe again.

"Please...kill Shan Pu."

Ranma sighed. "I'm not gonna kill you, Shampoo."

"Then Shan Pu take own life in apology."

"I can't let you do that either, Shampoo. Please, can you tell me why you're doing all this?"

"Is Amazon Law. If outsider female defeat Niuchezu warrior, that female must die."

"And if that outsider is a male?"

Ranma lifted her thermos, and dumped it over her head, transforming into a male.

Shan Pu looked up with shock in her eyes.

"Is true? Ranko really man?"

"Yeah, and the name's Ranma, not Ranko. You gonna stop trying to kill me now? And you're not gonna kill yourself? ACK!"

Shan Pu had launched herself in a full Amazon Glomp (tm).

"Niuchezu Law say if outsider male beat Niuchezu warrior, he marry her!"

"WHAT?!"

Akane grabbed Ranma's collar. "Ranma! You better explain this right away!"

"I don't know anything about it, okay?"

Shan Pu released Ranma. "Shan Pu go tell Hibachan we married. Is okay?"

"No! It's not! We're not married, Shampoo!"

But the Amazon was already bouncing off. Ranma wilted.

"I hate my life...I hate my life..."


	13. 26: Questions

**QUESTIONS**

Within the bowels of the alien flagship, a scientist entered the fleet commander's ready room. The alien commander, a massive individual whose face was partially covered with a metal plate, glanced up at the scientist.

"**My Lord, our recon ship has returned with recordings of the Micronian transmissions. From this, we have managed to reprogram our translation devices. We will now be able to address them in one of their own languages.**"

"**How prevalent is this language you have deciphered?**"

The gnomish alien scratched his chin. "**We have cause to believe that it is the dominant language not only of the Micronians within the Battle Fortress, but of the majority of those on the planet's surface.**"

"**Excellent work, Exedore. We can now convince them of the folly of resisting our might. Call up the Fifth Botoru Battalion.**"

"**Excellency, are you sure this is wise? The commander of the Fifth is quite unstable...**"

"**Immediately.**"

The scientist bowed. "**Yes, My Lord.**"

* * *

Ranma dropped into his seat at the White Dragon. The table was not actually Skull property anymore; it had sort of converted into "their table." While Roy was still CO of Skull, and the other three pilots normally at the table - Kramer, Saotome and Hunter - were all ex-Skull members, the latter three all had their own commands. Ranma commanded the Angel Squadron, reporting directly to Commander Hayes; Kramer still had command of Green; Rick had just been promoted to command of Vermilion. Never mind that Vermilion had been completely mangled in the attack near Saturn; Rick had two brand new pilots under his command, and was expected to rebuild the unit.

_Pretty tall orders for a Lieutenant, even one who's as shit-hot a pilot as Rick._

Commander Hayes, two orders envelopes in hand, walked up to the table. "Hi, boys. Mind if I join you?"

Roy shrugged. "You outrank all of us, ma'am."

"True." She pulled up a chair, then tossed the envelopes on the table. "One for you, Roy, and one for Mark."

Roy pulled out his orders, scanned them, and started chewing his lip. "Hey, Kramer. What did you pull?"

Kramer was frowning. "Command of Skull. How 'bout you?"

"Oh, nothin' much. Just a promotion to Major, as well as CAG for Promotheus."

"_Huh?_"

"My sentiments exactly." Roy dropped the envelope on the table. "Ma'am, want to explain this? Since when did Promotheus rate its own CAG?"

"There are now twelve squadrons operating solely off of the Promotheus, as well as six off of the Daedalus and eighteen off of the Macross itself. It was the decision of Colonel Maistroff that one CAG was insufficient to manage thirty-six squadrons. So he's divided the U.N. Spacy Air Division into three commands. Colonel Tendo will be taking the Daedalus command. You're getting the Promotheus command."

"And who gets the Macross Command?"

She sighed heavily. "Colonel Maistroff." She produced a third envelope and tossed it to Ranma. "This is your squadron's orders."

"You got a squadron, Ranma?"

"Yeah, Rick, it's a long story. And I think he needs to know, Commander. I'll fill him in later." Ranma tore open his orders packet and glanced through them. "Hey, Roy."

"Yeah?"

"My squadron's been transferred to your command, and you're losing Sepia to Tendo."

"Really?" Roy grinned. "You won't be getting away with any of that crap you could pull under Commander Hayes."

The ship tilted weirdly, and the lights flickered. Ranma was jolted right out of his seat. He wasn't alone in this; both Fokker and Kramer looked less than comfortable in the angles they found themselves bent into, and Rick was nearly knocked cold. Lisa was also knocked sprawling, but she recovered and ran from the room.

Roy struggled to his feet. "Damn, that was a really solid hit. Wonder what it was?"

"Dunno." Ranma seated himself, then glanced at his now-unrecoverable dinner. "But two gets you five we'll be paged in the next five minutes."

"Commander Hayes to the bridge. Colonel Tendo, Major Fokker and Captain Saotome to the briefing room. Lieutenants Hunter, Kanzaki and Tendo to the briefing room."

"No bet, Saotome. Let's go."

* * *

"Five minutes ago, the aliens attacked the ship. A single mecha, of a type previously uncatalogued, came in fast and hard and struck the primary radar boom and the sensor array. This has left the Macross blind in the middle of transiting the asteroid field.

"Two minutes after hitting the sensor array, the enemy transmitted the following message."

Gloval pressed the play button on the tape recorder.

"_This is the commander of the Zentraedi Fifth Botoru Battallion. The last attack was a warning. We have sufficient firepower to destroy your ship and your home planet. Surrender the battle fortress and we shall allow you to survive. You have one hour to comply._"

Roy leaned back. "So now we know what they call themselves."

"Yes. It is my decision to send a Cat's Eye Recon jet forward to find us a safe way out of the asteroid field. I am detailing Vermilion Squadron for escort, and Angel Squadron for backup. You'll be on the cats, six at a time. Understood?"

"Sir!"

"Good! Dismissed."

Roy hopped to his feet. "Come on, ladies. Time to rumble. Ranma, better change."

"Yes, Sir!" Ranma grabbed a glass of water from the table and dumped it over his head, giving Rick a very bad case of bug eyes. "Angel, suit up. Flight One will go on cats first, followed by Three."

Roy glanced over. "Why not Two up second?"

"Two had last patrol on our last duty cycle."

"Ah."

Rick was babbling. "How...what...He's a girl!"

"Later, Hunter. Right now, you've got a job to do."

* * *

"This is Eyes Front. We are under attack by approximately fifty Zentraedi mecha. Please assist."

Ranma shot forward. "Lisa! What the hell is she doin' in that recon bird?"

"As you were, Angel Lead. Angel Flight One, Macross. Launch and intercept Zentraedi mecha."

"Macross, Angel Flight One, Wilco. Flight One, Lead. Go!"

Ranma pushed the throttle all the way open on the fighter, then flagged the cat chief. She was smashed back into her seat by the force of the catapult accelerating her fighter from zero to four hundred klicks in three seconds. When her vision cleared, she thought the jet through a turn and formed up with the other five units of her flight.

Ranma growled as she lit her bird's afterburners.

_No-one's gettin' their claws on the Commander!_

But they didn't get there on time. Ranma saw a flash of light ahead, then the Cat's Eye's transponder dropped right off his scope.

"Crap! Macross, Angel Lead. Eyes Front has vanished. Repeat, I have no returns from Eyes Front's transponder. And I ain't gettin' returns on any of Vermilion either."

"Angel Lead, Macross. Affirm. We think we picked up a fold operation on scope."

"Lead, Three! I got bogeys closing on us!"

"Three, go evasive! Wings break. Two, you're wingleader. Let's get em!"

"Two."

Clark snapped her fighter around on a dime and thoroughly waxed a fighter pod, then shifted to Gerwalk. Her rifle barked three times, and three Zentraedi Battle Pods went up in smoke.

Ranma blinked. _Whoa! Where did that come from?!_

Clark was all over the sky, shifting back and forth from Soldier to Gerwalk, and occasionally back to Fighter, bringing the autocannon, the head lasers or the forward lasers to bear on anything that moved. Ranma was hard pressed just to stay on her wing, and it was quickly becoming apparent that she didn't really need the assist.

"Angel Flight Three is up and inbound, Lead. ETA five minutes."

"Roger, Flight Two."

And a damned good thing, too. Between Clark and Saotome, the Zentraedi were taking a shit-kicking, but the humans were still outnumbered by four to one at best.

The rest of the wing were definitely making up for lost time as well. Ranma noted that Four - a quiet, mousy type named Hikaru - was performing particularly well, though spending most of her time in Gerwalk.

Then he noticed the cruiser bearing down on them.

"Where the hell do they keep getting these things? Macross, Angel Lead. There is a Zentraedi battlecruiser closing on your position, ETA three minutes. We can't hold that thing off, Macross!"

"Understood, Angel Lead. Just try to keep their Mecha busy. Angel Flight Three has just left the cats and is inbound on your location."

"Roger that, Macross."

"Three's hit! It's not too bad, but I can't shift."

"Understood, Three." Ranma checked the Tac Net. Three was stuck in Soldier Mode. "Can you extend your wings?"

"What control is that?"

"None. Just visualize it."

"O-okay..."

As Ranma watched, Angel Three slowly cranked out her wings. They deployed jerkily, as if Kosuji was having trouble interfacing with the Mecha.

"Three, are you hurt?"

"Bit of shrapnel in the leg, nothing serious."

"Bug out, Three."

"Aye."

It left her understrength, but Third Flight was just arriving. And she also realized that it had become quiet. Could they actually have beaten the Zentraedi off?

"Hey, Captain! Can we play?"

"Sure thing, Kanzaki. All right, listen up, First. That ship is ninety seconds outside of firing range of the Macross, and we've managed to mop up their Mecha screen. But you can bet they have more. But for now, we're gonna try to take out that cruiser. Lieutenant Tendo."

"Aye?" Angel Flight Two was still sixty seconds out.

"Meet us in the middle."

"Aye, ma'am!"

"Flight One, let's go!"

First and Third Flight, Angel Squadron, spun and began bearing down on the enemy battlecruiser. Most shifted to Gerwalk and began to matter-surf along the enemy ship's hull. Ranma tapped six targets into his battle computer - gun turrets, radar booms, whatever - and sent a cloud of missiles after them. To his left, Clark, still in Soldier Mode, but flying with wings extended, turned the rifle pod on target after target.

Ahead of them, Zentraedi in powered armour began to appear.

_Rat race? You want a rat race?_

"Targets ahead. Powered armour. Angel, shift to Soldier."

It was the same game Ranma had fought in Macross City, save that this time, it was fought among the alien projections and gun turrets of the Zentraedi battlecruiser. And this time, there were a lot more enemies. Three of Ranma's squadron disappeared from his scope as their mecha went up in fireballs.

And then Angel Two arrived on high, raining death on the Zentraedi with missiles, laser fire and depleted transuranic slugs. Ranma whooped, then patched into the Tac Net.

"Welcome to the front line! And just in time, too."

Claudia Grant clicked onto the Net. "Angel Squadron, disengage and move away from the target. We are beginning our attack run."

Ranma thought of the Macross' main gun. "Yes, ma'am!"

* * *

"Sir, we cannot complete modular transformation in the time remaining, and we can't fire the main gun if we don't!"

"I doubt we can fire the main gun anyway, Kim. Lisa and the Vermilions could be inside that thing. Signal all ahead full."

"WHAT? Uh, Aye, sir!"

Gloval sat back and watched the viewport as the enemy cruiser swelled in it.

_At least it's clearing the asteroids from our path!_

* * *

Ranma watched in amazement as the SDF-1 leapt forward at the enemy cruiser.

"He's gonna broadside it!"

The SDF-1 slipped below the Zentraedi battlewagon and began running down her length. Her secondary batteries, normally of too short a range to be bothered with, began hammering into the underbelly of the enemy ship. Massive steel slugs from the rail guns and bolts of energy from the converging-beam reflex cannons, as well as firepower from the MAC II Destroids on the ship's surface and long range missiles from its anti-aircraft batteries, all of it tearing into the mammoth five-kilometer-long cruiser.

The Zentraedi ship had no weaponry on the underside; all she could do was take the pounding. Macross slid out from under her, and began a slow turn. Ranma glanced at the Tac Net, and saw the assault shuttles leaving the Macross.

"Angel Squadron, let's give them some cover. Angel Lead to assault shuttle group. Suggest you hit the hangar deck."

"Angel, this is Ferryboat Lead. Care to give us an escort?"

"No problem."

The enemy cruiser was still reeling from the hammering that Macross had given her. It was launching no fighters or mecha, and Ferryboat was able to make an uncontested entry. The six shuttles opened up, and disgorged their cargo of Tomahawk and Spartan Destroids.

"Angel, form up around the shuttle. We're gonna do guard duty."

"Flight Two, Aye."

"Angel Flight Three. Aye."

Ranma shifted to Soldier Mode, and dropped down next to a shuttle, cannon pod at the ready.

"How are y'all doin' for ammo?"

"Two's got one clip and six missiles."

"Four's got one clip."

"Five's empty."

"Angel Flight Two has all pilots, two clips left, and no missiles. We used them all pulling your asses out of the fire."

"Angel Flight Three has all pilots, one clip left, and eleven missiles among us."

"Right. Flight Two, can you loan us a clip?"

Akane hooked one out of her Mecha's leg and tossed it across to Five. "Now you owe us two."

"Yeah, right. We'll settle it later. But for now, your Flight's name is Guardian. Eyes sharp, people."

But it proved unneccesary. The Destroid raid kept the enemy busy, and the Destroids themselves returned unhindered, though with a few holes in their ranks. The shuttles blasted off, and Angel formed up to escort them back to the Macross.

"Angel Lead, Ferryboat. Suggest we put on the gas. We left them a present behind there..."

* * *

Three Zentran clustered around the small barnacle-shaped device in the engine room. One of them activated his personal comm.

"**My Lord. The Micronians appear to have...lost something. What should we do about it?**"

The Zentraedi Commander frowned. "**What is it?**"

"**We're not entirely certain. It is small, grey and round, and has a black patch with red marks on it. The marks keep changing.**"

Another Zentran spoke up. "**One of the sets of red marks has disappeared.**"

The Zentran stared at the device, trying to make sense out of the markings.

4...

3...

2...

1...

* * *

Behind the Valkyrie flight, the cruiser suddenly erupted into a massive fireball.

"Yikes! Brace for shockwave!"

And then the mecha were tossed around like leaves on a summer hurricane. The shuttles fared worse, and as Ranma watched, one of them crumpled and exploded.

Then they were out of it, and it was smooth sailing all the way back home.

* * *

The noise level in the O-Club was rapidly approaching lethal levels. Most of the pilots on the Macross were nowhere near the fight - only Angel had been on the cats - but it was the first real victory won by Mecha. And the fourteen remaining pilots of Angel Squadron had rapidly discovered that they would not be permitted to buy their own beer. Period.

But Ranma wasn't in a celebratory mood. Shortly after the party began, she slipped out and headed for the White Dragon.

It was fairly late, and the White Dragon was mostly empty. In one corner, Ranma noticed Colonel Tendo and his eldest daughter, Kasumi. She shrugged, then went over.

"Hi. Can I join you?"

Kasumi beamed. "Of course, Ranma! Nabiki will be here soon, but there's still one seat."

"Thanks." Ranma dropped into the seat. "Hi, Colonel. How come you aren't at the party?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Captain."

Max brought over a small kettle, and Ranma poured the hot water over herself, triggering the change. "Well, I didn't really see a point in celebrating. Angel is down four pilots, and we failed our mission." Too late, Ranma remembered Kasumi's presence. Tendo noticed his worried glance, and made a negative motion with his hand.

"Don't worry - you've not said anything that won't be on the news tomorrow. And since we're both off duty, let us treat each other not as officers, but as family."

"Yeah, okay."

Tendo grinned. "Much better. So tell me, when are you and Akane getting married?"

"Oh, man..."

Luckily for Ranma, Kasumi stepped in. "Now, Father, I don't think you should rush them into this. I mean, both of them have careers to think of. Oh, my! I never thought that Akane would join the army!"

"Hey, she's kickin' butt, Kasumi. She's one of my best pilots."

Tendo nodded. "And after this last battle, I imagine she'll be pushed to the top of the promotion list. She may make First Lieutenant in a month."

Kasumi tilted her head. "Does this mean I'll have to salute her?"

Ranma grinned. "Ah...no, Kasumi."

"Hey, Saotome." Nabiki walked up to the table. "You joining us for dinner?"

Ranma shrugged. "Why not?"

Nabiki sat down across from him. "I have some information you may want."

"Really? Do tell."

"Not so fast, Saotome. This information is kind of important and, as such, is going to set you back some cash. But seems how you're almost family, I'll let you have a discount. Two thousand yen, up front."

"What could be _that_ important?"

"Do you want the information or not?"

"All right, all right! Here!" Ranma slid two bills across the table to Nabiki.

"Now what's the information?"

"Four days from now is Akane's birthday."

"Gimme back my money, I coulda got that from her personnell dossier."

"True, but would you have even thought to look if I hadn't reminded you?" Nabiki slipped the cash into her pocket. "I figure that just telling you it was coming up was worth the two thousand. I threw in the exact day as a freebie."

"Yeah, whatever..."

"For an extra five thousand, I'll tell you what she wants."

"Forget it, I'll just guess."


	14. 31: Kuh Lon

**KUH LON**

Ranma bowed to the Tendo patriarch, backing out onto the street, and waited for the Colonel to close the door. He sighed and crumpled a bit, then began meandering back to the Bachelor's Officer Quarters.

"Oh, man. I shoulda just stayed at the O-Club. Who woulda thought that Tendo-san was a two fisted drinker...an' pushin the sake on me...an' goin' on about me an' Akane gettin' married..."

He was a bit intoxicated, he decided. Not wasted, not really even drunk, but definitely under the influence.

"Azzif I'm gonna marry that tomboy, fambly honour or no. I mean, she's cute an' all, but I gotta career to keep up. Not to menshun, she don' wanna get married either..."

"Saotome Ranma?"

"Huh?"

Ranma swiveled a bit unsteadily, and tried to focus on the speaker.

_Man, I must be drunker than I thought. A three-foot high talkin' Troll doll? Maybe if I ignore it..._

**BOP**

"OW! What wazzat for?"

"You are Saotome Ranma?"

"Yeah, why?"

The Troll doll chuckled - or, at least, that was his guess as to what that sound was. "Shan Pu has told me of your Jushenkyou curse, boy."

"Oh? So, what's this about Shampoo an' me bein' married, then?"

"It is the law of the Joketsuzoku, nearly three thousand years old."

"Oh. Well, I ain't from the Jokek...the Jokesu...your village. 'M from Nerima, Tokyo, Japan."

"This does not matter. It is the law, and you, being a male of the Joketsuzoku through marriage, must follow it."

"Man, am I wasted. Carryin' on a talk with a withered ol' troll 'bout useless laws..."

Kuh Lon narrowed her eyes. "Our laws are not useless. They are what kept the Joketsuzoku strong over three thousand years of history. They ensure the strength of the tribe, by bringing in the greatest soldiers and fighters, in order to breed the ultimate warriors."

"Ain't he a wrestler or somethin'?"

Kuh Lon blinked. "You're drunk."

"Oh, I dunno, mebbe a bit...not too much...only had six, or seven, or eight, or I dunno..."

"I think it would be best for us to continue this conversation at a later date."

"Yeah...good plan...talk when I ain't seein' no trolls..."

* * *

"So, Son-in-law. I trust you are in better shape to talk now?"

"Huh?"

Ranma glanced up from his food to see the old woman balanced on her walking stick at the table.

"Oh, man. You mean it wasn't a hallucination?"

"No. It was not."

"Fine, then. Look, I ain't marryin' Shampoo, okay? I'm already engaged."

"Your other engagements are of no concern."

"They are to me."

"What you want is also of no concern. In our tribe, males serve only one purpose."

"Besides, U.N. Spacy military law says I need my superior officer's permission to marry a foreign national."

"Military law is also of no concern."

Ranma carefully finished chewing his bite of egg roll, set down the unfinished portion, and glared at the crone.

"Let me see if I understand exactly what you're saying here. U.N. Spacy regulations are not important, but Chinese law - not even that, but the law of a nobody village in the middle of the Chinese jungle, so far out of reach of civilization that its citizens think 'star ship' means a boat with five points - the laws of this village are important, even inside a Dimensional Fortress owned and operated by the United Earth Government, manned primarily by Japanese personnel, under martial law of the United Nations Space Defense Force."

"Yes, that's about right."

Ranma took another bite of his egg roll, chewed thoughtfully. "Old bat, you're really something else."

Cologne raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I really didn't thing anyone was that brain dead."

**WHACK**

"Ow!"

"Son-in-law, you will learn respect for your elders."

"I don't respect elders with senile delusions of grandeur."

Cologne chuckled, then lashed out again with her stick. Ranma tried to dodge, but the stick caught him square in the chest with the point.

"Oh, don't worry, Son-in-law. When the time comes, you will be begging me to allow you to marry Shan Pu."

"Huh?"

Cologne turned and left the restaurant, leaving Ranma horribly confused.

* * *

Shoko was the first to notice Ranma entering the ready room. She snapped to attention and called out, "Officer on the deck!"

The room fell silent as Ranma picked up the glass of water on his desk and upended it over his head. There were gasps from the new pilots, but the older hands took it as their cue to sit down.

_Hm. That felt a bit warm. Still, it was cold enough to trigger the change..._

"Good afternoon. I trust you all slept well?"

There was a chorus of groans from the more hung-over pilots.

"Y'know, I really thought that a female squadron woulda done things different than a male squadron. But oh, no, you girls are just as hard drinkers as Skull..."

This comment elicited growls all around; Roy Fokker was the biggest drunkard in the U.N. Spacy, and most of the Skull followed their Major's lead. Ranma grinned. "Well, now for the good news. Firefly squadron has just graduated, and its members are bein' posted for repple-depple all through the fleet. Four of 'em came here. It's worth pointin' out that Skull and Sepia squadrons have both requested Fireflies. Seems you girls have made a lasting impression.

"Second, I've got some commendations to hand out. These aren't medals or anythin' like that, nor do they carry extra leave or bonus pay, but they WILL reflect on your promotion review. Lemme see here...Got two from Commander Hayes, one to Tendo Akane - outstanding use of tactics - and one for Kosuji Minako - courage under fire." He glanced up at the girl. "Minako, this commendation, along with your Purple Heart, will put you on the promotion schedule for Warrant Officer, second class.

"Finally, I got one other commendation. This one's from me, to Amy Clark. Courage under fire.

"Now, for today's mission briefing. We've punched through Zentraedi lines, and it appears that the majority of their fleet has folded for parts unknown. There's only about a hundred ships, ranging from scout corvette to cruiser, following us now. But now we got a lot of dead space to get through, and the sublimunal drive ain't really efficient through dead space. Has to do with a lack of hydrogen for the ramscoops. So we got maybe a two-month cruise before we reach Mars.

"During this time, six squadrons will be doing patrols, four up, four down, four more up, then twelve down. This will not be fun at all. The patrol order will be Skull, Green, Sepia, Blue, Angel and Rogue. So we ain't up for sixteen hours. But after that, we're up every day for eight hours a day for the next two months."

One of the new pilots raised her hand. "Uh, ma'am, there's thirty six squadrons on the Macross, right? So why only six being put on patrol?"

Ranma sighed; she had been dreading that question. "Well, the official line is that the six squadrons on patrol are the best squadrons, and are the most likely to survive a prolonged engagement with Zentraedi forces. The other thirty are being held back for reinforcement, or if needed to engage a capital ship. However, it is my belief that the reason these six squadrons have drawn onerous duty is because all six squadrons contain officers who've managed to irritate Colonel Maistroff."

Chuckles.

"Don't laugh, it ain't funny! Look, guys, you've never done heel-and-toe patrols before. Before these two months are out, you'll be cursing the very ground Maistroff walks on. I already am. Dismissed."

* * *

"Captain Ranma Saotome to the bridge."

Ranma cursed. Since it was him being paged and not "Ranko", she'd have to change. Granted, her uniform had been modified to allow for her change, but her flight suit - of neccesity - had not. She spent five minutes struggling out of the flight suit, then grabbed her thermos and upended it over her head.

"YEEOOOOOW!"

Akane turned at the howl of pain, to see Ranma - still in female form - curled up in a ball, screaming.

"Ranma! What's wrong?"

"HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT-"

Akane grabbed her helmet flask, ripping it from its moorings and pouring it over Ranma. She stared at the red welt rising on Ranma's face.

"What happened?"

Ranma shivered. "Musta been a short circuit in the thermos. The water was boiling hot."

Akane picked up the thermos and frowned. "You'd think the thermos itself would be hot..." She poured some of the water over her hand and frowned again. "Ranma, this water's barely warm at all!"

"Huh?"

"It's not hot. In fact, I don't think it's even warm enough to trigger the change."

Ranma frowned. "But it was boiling! It was way too hot to touch."

"Here, feel it." Alane poured the water over Ranma's hand.

"OW!" Ranma snatched her hand back like it'd been burned.

"What's going on?" Shoko and one of the new girls, Jane something-or-other, had wandered over.

"Ranma - I mean, Captain Saotome - is of the opinion that this water is too hot." Akane tossed the thermos to Shoko, who tested the water carefully.

"She's nuts. This water's only lukewarm."

"I'm nuts, am I?" Ranma raised his hand, showing the red weal. "Since when does lukewarm water cause first-degree scalds?"

The new girl scratched her head. "Does this have something to do with that sex-change she did in the briefing?"

"Yeah." Akane sat down. "Captain Saotome acquired an ancient Chinese curse--"

"She lives in interesting times?"

Ranma smirked. "That does about sum it up."

Akane glared at both of them. "The curse comes from a place called Jushenkyou. Cold water turns Ranma into a female, and hot water turns him male."

"So what is he - a guy or a girl?"

Ranma glared at her. "I'm a guy, got it? The only reason I fly as a girl is because girls can handle Valkyries better."

The bitch box clicked again. "Captain Ranma Saotome, report to the bridge immediately."

"Aw, crap. If I can't stand the water needed to change back to a guy, how am I supposed to go to the bridge?"

Shoko shrugged. "Just walk faster, I guess."

"No, you don't understand. Only about fifteen people outside of this squadron know about the curse. Normally, only one of them is on the bridge, but Lisa's not there right now..."

"So?"

"So it was my guy form summoned! I can't go there like this! Then everyone will know!"

"So just get some hot water-"

Ranma smacked her head. "Don't you get it, Shoko? If I can't stand that water, which isn't hot enough to cause the change-"

"Oh! I see." Shoko shook her head. "Man, you're screwed."

"Thank you for your vote of confidence."

Akane spoke up. "Look, Ranma. You're just gonna have to risk it, ´causeyou sure don't have any other choice at the moment. Hopefully it's not Gloval who wants to see you."

"Right." Ranma stood, resignedly, and headed for the hanger door.

* * *

The door to the bridge slid open, and Ranma hesitantly stepped out into the bridge. "Ah, Captain Saotome reporting as ordered, sir."

Gloval stood and walked around his chair, coming face to face with Ranma. "What on earth-"

Sammie Porter waved at Ranma. "Hi, Ranma-chan!"

"I had Ranma Saotome paged, not Ranko."

Sammie grinned. "You're gonna love this, Captain!"

"Indeed." Another man turned to face Ranma. He was tall, dark-haired and bulged with muscles. But the really disturbing part was his eyes. They were completely black. "This is the very reason I asked you to call him to the bridge."

"Very well...To the Briefing Room, please. Sammie, since you seem to know what this is all about, you are to come with us."

"Aye, sir!"

* * *

"Now then, Dr. Lang, would you kindly tell us what the hell is going on?"

"Certainly, sir. Major Fokker was being debriefed by myself when he mentioned something about Captain Saotome changing in the cockpit. He tried to cover it up, but I managed to pry out of him that Captain Saotome apparently suffers from an exotic Chinese curse."

"Yep." Sammie leaned forward. "And Lisa knew all about it, too! She told me, 'cause I've gotta run the Valkyrie teams when she's away."

"I see. So what exactly is this curse?"

"Ahem-" Lang turned towards Sammie. "First off, your name and rank?"

"Eh? Samantha Porter, Ensign."

"Thank you. Please continue."

"Well, Ranma apparently changes gender when hit by water. Hot water renders her male, and cold water turns him female."

Gloval blinked at this interesting use of pronouns.

Lang sat down and leaned back in his chair. "Well, now, Captain Saotome. Would you care to come down to the medical lab?"

* * *

Five minutes later, Gloval, Sammie, Lang and Ranma were in the med lab. While Lang fussed over his equipment, Sammie chatted with Ranma.

"So tell me, Ranma-chan, why did you come to the bridge as Ranko?"

Ranma shrugged. "For some reason, I can't tolerate water hot enough for me to shift."

Lang frowned at this. "Why not?"

"I dunno. Just for some reason, water feels warmer to me."

Lang scowled and began putting some of his equipment away. "Guess I won't get to use these..."

"So you've known about this curse all the time?"

"Yep." Sammie grinned. "Lisa told me about it when she was explaining the TOE."

"So you knew, even as you tried to arrange dates for me in female form?"

Sammie shrugged. "A girl can have some fun, can't she?"

"I'm gonna strangle you."

"Not right now, Captain, if you please." Lang walked over with an armload of wires and probes. "Would you please strip to the waist and lie down?"

"Ah..." Ranma glanced at the Captain, then back to Lang. Gloval took the hint.

"Sorry. I'll just go back to the bridge." He beat a hasty retreat from the room.

"Don't worry about me, Captain. Remember, I'm a doctor."

"Right." Ranma pulled off his uniform jacket, then unbuttoned and removed the shirt.

"Of Engineering. Boots too."

Ranma scowled at him, but removed her boots and leaned back into the medical bed. Lang proceeded to wire her up with several small sensors.

"I wanted to get some readings on you as you shifted, but I guess that's not going to be possible. So instead I'm going to scan you for radioactivity, Reflex energy and so forth. I'm also going to expose you to such - don't worry, I'll use low levels, too low to damage even the most sensitive cells - to see if this provokes some sort of response. Also, this device--" he gestured towards a machine "--will do a complete DNA workup of your system."

"Joy."

Lang grinned. "Not very enthusiastic?"

"Y'know, Doc, I spent three years hiding this curse so just this sort of thing wouldn't happen. Then Roy goes and tells you. I'm gonna kill him."

"Don't worry, Ranma. I'm not going to turn you into a full-time guinea pig. But if I can discover the cause of this transformation, then perhaps I can reverse it."

Ranma sat bolt upright, dislodging several of the sensors. "You mean you can cure the curse?"

"Perhaps. But not if you won't let me proceed."

"Oh. Sorry." Ranma lay down again, and Lang started replacing the dislodged sensors. "So, why are you here, Sammie?"

She grinned. "Well, mainly it's because I think your curse is fascinating. I mean, you're the only person in the world who truly understands both genders' points of view. So if Doc Lang can get more information on it..." She shrugged. "Also, I'm gonna need whatever information he finds, 'cause it might affect the TOE."

"How?"

"What happens if he can cure you? Who's gonna be in command of Angel Squadron?"

"Hm...Good point. I'd suggest Lieutenant Kanzaki."

"Oh? Not Lieutenant Tendo, your fiancee?"

Ranma scowled. "In the first place, nepotism is conduct unbecoming an U.N. Spacy officer, right? Second, Kanzaki is the best leadership material in the squadron."

"Right. Right. Just pulling your chain."

Lang broke in. "All done!"

"What? Already?"

"Yes. These things don't take long. It actually takes longer to wire you up than it does to run the tests." He began removing the sensors. "Just as soon as I get these things off, you can get dressed." He removed the last of them and handed her a small facecloth. "You can use this to remove the adhesive."

"Thanks." Ranma quickly wiped herself down, then dressed. "So what's the verdict, Doc?"

"The computer's still running the analysis. It'll take about ten more minutes. Coffee?"

"Sure, thanks. Aw, crap, I just remembered something. Doc, I'll be back in half an hour. Sammie, c'mon. You gotta help me."

"Huh?"

* * *

"Okay, Ranma, what's going on? Where are we going?"

"Look, Sammie, you were wrong. I _don't_ know about women's point of view. Okay? I'm just as clueless about this as any male."

"...Okay, sure. Just means you gotta work at it--"

"Maybe, but I ain't got the time. Tomorrow is Akane's birthday and I gotta get her a present."

"Right. So what does she want?"

"_I don't know!_"

"Yeesh, you don't have to yell. Still, I guess you're right. You're not the first guy I've helped out this way. Now lemme think..."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, gift-wrapped package in hand, Ranma walked back into the lab. "Hey, Doc, I'm back." Dr. Lang glanced up from the computer. "Ah, good. Where's Sammie?"

"Called back to the bridge. I'm supposed to tell her what happens."

"Very well. It seems that this 'curse' is somehow tied into Robotechnology. Your body literally radiates Reflex energy, and bombarding you with Reflex energy causes your DNA to shift. How water is tied into the formula, I don't know, but I'd recommend you expose yourself to cold water sometime soon."

"Uh...why?"

"Because your DNA at the cellular level has transformed, and will slowly - and painfully - convert you back to your male form. Unless you act to reverse it--"

"So even if I did let it run its course, I'd still turn female again with cold water?"

"Yes."

"So I'm guessin' you didn't find a cure."

"Sadly, no." Lang handed Ranma a sheet of paper. "This is a work order for your personal Valkyrie. It's to be upgraded to an S-variant, and the engines to be replaced with Kustonov Reflex heat-pile reactors."

"Meaning?"

"You'll notice a loss of speed, due to the fact that Kustonov reactors are less efficient than fusion engines. However, due to your own personal reflex signature, it should make your fighter more nimble in combat. I'm not sure how, but these things do tend to happen."

"Yeah, and usually to me."

* * *

"Angel Squadron, fall in."

The girls of the squadron leapt to their feet and fell into formation before the Captain.

"Stand easy. Okay folks, we've picked up a break for the moment. Captain Gloval has decided that Angel Squadron will be receiving four days' down time. No patrols or anything during that time." He paused to allow the light cheering to stop. "The bad news is, at the end of that time, we will be on Ready Five sixteen hours."

"Why the change of schedule?"

"Seems that the Chief Engineer, Doctor Lang, has decided that my fighter needs a refit. Then he suggested to Gloval that Angel be reserved for truly frightful messes. So, we get to sit around and be bored, and pray to God we get to stay bored."


	15. 32: Cat Tongue

**CAT TONGUE**

Ranma decided to get something to eat. Not that this was a hard decision for her - Akane had once accused her of eating like a Hoover, whatever that meant. No, the problem now was choice of restaurant. Previously, this would not have been a problem. Ranma's favourite food was Cantonese-style, and there was only the White Dragon. But now some other enterprising people had opened a restaurant.

"Hmmm...Should I just go to the White Dragon? Or try this new place?" Ranma glanced from one restaurant to the other, then made her decision.

"Right! The new place! Just wish they'd change the name..."

With that, she opened the door and walked in. The smell of freshly-cooked Cantonese food swept over her - sweet and sour sauce, pork, chicken, chow mein...She closed her eyes and just savoured the aroma.

"Nihao! Welcome to Cat Cafe!"

That voice...sounded disturbingly familiar. She opened her eyes again and looked at the waitress.

Purple hair.

Pony tails.

Patterned cheongsam.

Shampoo.

"Aw, man..."

"Aiyah! Ranma come to visit Shan Pu! Shan Pu so happy! Come, Airen, sit here! Shan Pu get you too-too delicious noodle soup!" The purple-haired Amazon bounced off towards the kitchen.

"Great. And with my luck, the old ghoul's here too."

**WHACK**

"Ow!"

"And just who do you think you're calling a ghoul?"

"Aw, man! I just _knew_ I shoulda gone to the White Dragon."

Kuh Lon grinned. "I believe that they have a lack of customers at this time. Something to do with the fact that Lin Minmei no longer works there. While I have a Miss Macross finalist as a waitress..."

"So you don't mind that you mostly get customers who want to ogle her?"

"It is only right to acknowledge the beauty of an Amazon warrior. Besides, to stay, they have to buy food. So tell me...why are you here in female guise?"

"Huh?" Ranma glanced up at her, then narrowed her eyes. "You did this to me, didn't you? When you poked me in the chest."

"True enough, son-in-law. When I touched your chest, I struck a shiatsu point. Your whole body is now as sensitive as a cat's tongue, and we all know how sensitive that is. With this affecting you, you cannot tolerate temperatures hot enough to shift back to your male body."

"Why'd you do it, old ghoul?"

"That should be obvious. Marry Shan Pu, and I will undo what I did. Refuse, and you will remain female for the rest of your life."

"I keep telling you, I ain't gonna marry Shampoo!"

"And I keep telling you that you have no choice. You're dealing with three thousand years of Amazon history. You can't win. So be a man, do the sensible thing, and marry the girl."

"No way."

"So be it. I shall be here, in case you change your mind." The old woman hopped back towards the kitchen. "Man, I wish she'd get the picture." Ranma scowled down at the table.

Shan Pu bounced over and set a bowl of ramen in front of Ranma. "Here is ramen, airen. And Shan Pi give airen tip as well."

"Tip? I thought I was supposed to give the tip."

"That tip later. This tip now. Locket around Hiibachan's neck contain Phoenix Pill."

"Phoenix?" Ranma glanced up from her noodles. "As in the bird that rises from its own ashes?"

"Champion of heat resistance!"

"So if I take that pill, then I can stand the water needed to change back..." Ranma leaped from her chair and dove towards the old woman.

"Gimme that pill, old ghoul!"

**WHACK**

"Ow!"

Ranma hit the floor face first. Scowling, she peeled herself off the linoleum and gazed balefully at the Amazon Elder.

Kuh Lon, for her part, was grinning. "You have to be much faster than that, son-in-law, if you want to get the pill."

* * *

Ranma's Valkyrie was not the only one being refit. She stood in a service bay above the hangar floor and watched Angel Nine being torn down.

Due to Angel's new status as the squadron of choice for emergency situations, the brass had decided that they needed top-notch fighters. The J-variant of the Valkyrie had enhanced electronics, including a powerful long range camera with image enhancement and infra-red thermal imaging. It also had a faster battle computer, with more memory, as well as a special series of hard points designed for modular upgrade packages. Rick Hunter had flown the prototype of the Jaybird Valkyrie, on the night of the beauty pageant.

Angel One, on the other hand, was undergoing a far more extensive refit. Besides upgrades to the S-variant standard, which included a top-notch fire direction computer, four head lasers and a new 100mm smoothbore gun pod, his ship had also had its primary powerplants removed. In place of the two FF-2001 fusion turbines and the Reflex energy bank, two large ugly devices had been installed, one to each leg. The empty bay that used to hold the Reflex system was filled with four extra clips for the GU-12. Hard points for modular upgrades were installed on the back, arms and legs. The engineers that had designed the S-variant referred to it as a Super Valkyrie. Ranma decided that she'd form her own opinion once she'd flown it.

What she found most disturbing about the upgrades to her ship was the fact that at no time did she spot anything resembling a thruster port on the new powerplants.

_How the heck is it gonna fly?_

"How are you feeling, Captain?"

Ranma turned, to see Amy Clark's head sticking in through the door to the break room. "Not bad, Sergeant." She waved a hand towards the shop. "Just watchin' them rape my jet."

Amy's face darkened. "I would rather you rephrased that, Captain."

"Sorry." Ranma scratched her head.

Amy stepped up to the rail and looked down into the pit. "Which one is that?"

"Yamagami's. Number nine. They're halfway done."

"We have to fly a patrol in two days. The technicians will not be finished refitting our Valkyries before then."

"We've got seven operational Jaybirds now. Plus, Angel One will be back together by then. Our flight's gonna take the patrol, and we should have enough Jaybirds by then to have the Guardians on the cats."

Amy nodded. "I want to get some simulator time in before then. The new electronics are going to require practise."

"I'll clear you." Ranma paused. Amy was probably the quietest pilot in her squadron. She never raised her voice, never seemed to lose her temper, and her language was usually crisp and polite. But in battle, she was sudden death in all directions.

_Ya gotta watch the quiet ones._

* * *

"So, Son-in-Law, have you yet come to your senses?"

"Yep."

Cologne blinked. "You mean that you intend to wed my great-granddaughter?"

"Not in the least." Ranma snapped to a ready position. "Saotome School of Anything Goes Desperation Strike!"

"Oh, the Phoenix Pill again?" Cologne raised her staff.

"Yep! I'm gonna get that thing if--Hey! You gotta grease fire goin' in there!"

Cologne turned towards the kitchen in alarm...and Ranma snagged the locket.

"Blew it!" She tore open the locket and downed the pill. And frowned.

"Hey! That tasted just like a lemon drop."

"It was a lemon drop."

Ranma scowled at her. "So there's no such thing as a Phoenix Pill?"

"Oh, there is. And all you have to do to get it is--"

"Save it, ghoul. I've heard it."

* * *

Carrier ops had not changed too much; certain alterations had to be made to catapult procedure due to the zero-gee and airless environment. Technically, fighters in zero-gee didn't need a cat shot at all, but the crews had been trained for catapult, and it didn't make any sense at all to muck with a working system just because whatever replaced it might be better.

"Angel Flight One, Macross. Taxi for cat launch."

"Angel One, aye." Ranma eased forward the throttle on the Super Valkyrie and held her breath. Much to her surprise, the Valkyrie did not instantly fly apart at the seams, but instead began to roll smoothly down the taxiway.

_Well, whaddaya know? I guess thrusters are optional after all._

She glanced at the rear view mirror, and saw that Angel Two had fallen into place behind him. The Jaybird's advanced sensor systems were currently shut down; the new radar was powerful enough to cook a TV dinner at a range of over a thousand meters. Ranma was quite happy that they were not switched on, forty meters from her back.

A crewman in a purple spacesuit - all crewmembers were colour-coded by job - ran forward and attached the cat chock to the Super Valkyrie's nose gear, then tossed a salute to the Captain. Ranma returned the salute, and lowered her visor.

"Angel Flight One, Macross. Cat in thirty."

"Aye." Ranma ran her eyes over the instrument cluster, noted the Reflex levels in the heat-piles, set her wheel brakes, then checked the rear view mirror again, this time to ensure the jet blast deflectors were in place. She smiled slightly; it was a reflexive check. This bird wouldn't have any jet blast.

The purple-suited cat chief gave a windup signal, and Ranma advanced both throttles. The Reflex levels spiked, and the jet hunched forward. The cat chief dropped to one knee, hand thrust forward. Ranma disengaged the wheel brakes, and was slammed back into her seat as the jet was hurled into the void.

Ranma instantly found herself in an alpha state; totally at one with the Mecha. The speed at which it happened alarmed her; normally, it took a bit of effort to reach alpha. But this new bird seemed to hunger for it; it pulled the pilot into itself. Once she got past the initial shock, she had to admit that she liked it. She "looked" back with the rear sensors, and saw Angel Two dropping into formation, with Angel Three and Four back on the Promotheus being prepped for launch.

"How ya doin', Amy?"

"Not bad. I am not going to be at my best for some time to come. I need more practise."

"Well, we'll get lots of chance for that."

"Angel One, squawk one seven four one."

Ranma tapped the transponder, setting it to return 1741. The rest of the flight would be issued similar numbers. She checked Angel Two's transponder, and confirmed its return number as 1742. Next, she checked her nav points.

"Right. We've got a nice long-range patrol. As soon as Five and Six are up, we'll head out."

* * *

"Skull Flight Charlie, Macross. We are registering a defold operation. Your bearing zero three five mark thirty-five for forty thousand."

Captain Lee Jackson checked his radar. "Macross, Skull Lead. I have nothing on radar, but that would be outside our detection radius." He bit his lip. "We'll check it out. Request you put Skull Flight Two up."

"We'll take that under consideration, Skull Lead."

Jackson pushed the throttle forward. "Skull, we got a recon to do."

* * *

"Angel Lead, Macross. Defold in progress; we're launching Angel Flight Three."

"Great." Ranma scowled. "Base, Angel Lead. Affirm that."

Amy Clark's visored face popped up on the left side of Ranma's display. "What--"

"Base thinks we got an incoming strike." Ranma tapped the Tac Net, and scowled. "Skull's doin' recon, an' if they don't like what they find, odds are we're gonna be sent in. I want you to take wing lead."

"Yes, ma'am."

Space ahead of them glimmered with fire. The Tac Net cleared, and Jackson's face appeared. "Base, Skull Lead. We have hostiles of an unidentified type present. Request immediate backup!"

"Skull Lead, hang tight. Reinforcements are en route. Angel Lead, Macross. Skull is engaged by Zentraedi forces. Your vector for intercept three three seven mark minus niner for sixty five. Gate."

"Base, affirm. Skull, Angel, we are inbound." Ranma slammed the throttle all the way forward, and the fighter started gaining speed. She cursed; as per Lang's predictions, the bird was handling sluggish under the throttle. "Three through Six, Gate."

"Three."

"Four."

"Five."

"Six."

The four Jaybirds leaped forward, passing Ranma and Amy like they were standing still. Ranma cursed again.

"Contact!"

"Multiple warhead detonation!"

"Jesus, it just flew through the--"

"Fifteen, break off. You can't--"

Explosions. Three Skulls dropped right off the scope.

"Breakaway. Skull, incoming friendly missiles."

"Can't hold him--"

"Angel One, Guardian Lead. We are inbound, ETA five point one."

"Impact in ten, nine, eight..."

"Microwave jamming, Kilo band."

"Switch to FLIR."

Ranma cursed, swore, kicked the console, cursed some more, and finally settled down to merely fuming. Nothing she could do could squeeze any more speed out of the Valkyrie. She checked the Nav Comp; twelve minutes to contact at this speed...

"I'm hit!"

"Got one. Angel, use lasers. These things are too fast for missiles."

"Eject, eject--"

Ranma squeezed her eyes shut. The Valkyries were being massacred, and there was nothing she could do.

_Be there._

Of course, that's what she needed. To get there now, before anyone else died--

_Death is an ending. It is a sadness._

She opened her eyes.

The Valkyrie was gone. She was standing in a field of flowers.

_When your kind came, there was much death. And to think that the one I trusted, that I loved, would be the one to betray me._

Ranma turned, to see a woman standing next to her. The woman was very tall, and rather beautiful, though in an artificial way.

_But you are not like him. And more; you are two in one, and mutable._

"Who are you?"

_One who leads. The woman looked down at her. Much like you, though you were chosen to lead by others, and I exist only to lead._

Ranma looked around. "Where am I? What is this place?"

_This place no longer exists, save in my memories. And now yours as well. Though these memories would be but a burden to you, and I will remove them from you before you leave._

Ranma looked back to the women. "I was in a battle--"

_You struggle to preserve life. Perhaps I can help you in this. And though you are mutable, you choose not to be._

Ranma shrugged. "Not my choice."

_Though it is. You allow it to be._ The woman turned, and placed a hand on Ranma's head. _Go now. Be there. Quickly--behind you!_

She whirled about, bringing up the massive gun pod, and haloed the Zentraedi mecha. Rather than a stream of shells, the GU-12 coughed up a single massive tungsten-core penetrator, that smashed through the target. Ranma blinked; the enemy Mecha were more humanoid in form, resembling a giant Powered Armour suit with a jet pack. She whirled on her heel, firing off three more rounds, blowing three more enemy Mecha to scrap.

Ranma shook her head. "What the--"

"Angel One, glad to see you."

"Skull, Macross. We are picking up a second Reflex wave--"

Ranma turned the jet end for end, dropping true and launching a spread of missiles towards a cloud of battle pods. She whirled and snap-kicked another suit of Powered Armour, then turned and drilled another battle pod.

"Jesus, lookit her go!"

On the outskirts of the battle, Assault Leader Miriya Parino watched, stupefied, as the Super Valkyrie made hash of the elite of the Quadrano Battalion.

"**This Micronian is a devil!**" She scowled. "**Leave his termination to me.**"

She cut in the suit's thrusters, and dived into the battle.

Ranma saw her coming, and realized with a start that the pilot was female. _Makes sense, I guess...where else are little Giants supposed to come from...but how did I know that?_ She brought the rifle up, and pulled the trigger.

Much to her surprise, the rifle exploded.

"What the hell?"

No time to shift; the enemy was already on top of her, firing streams of energy from cannons mounted in the Armour's wrist. Ranma dodged the incoming fire, and salvoed all four Scorpion missiles, only to see them shot down before impact.

_That thing can really move!_

She faked left, then threw the Soldier into a spin kick that connected with the enemy Mecha, knocking it flying. She righted the Valkyrie, and armed her head laser, only to realize that the enemy had launched a swarm of missiles, and there was no way she could shoot them all down in time--

* * *

"Breakaway, breakaway! Skull, Angel Flight Three. Incoming friendly missiles.

Impact in three, two--"

"Detonation!"

"That definitely hurt them. The enemy is falling back."

Lieutenant Tendo scanned the wreckage of the battlefield. Skull Flight One had managed to make it into the fight, and had gotten mauled for their troubles, and Angel had lost two pilots. Disabled mecha floated in place, most of them spinning in place. Akane noted one battle pod that was still operational, its legs kicking helplessly. She grinned; Intelligence had wanted a live captive for some time now.

Then she spotted Angel One.

Ranma's fighter was mostly intact, though thoroughly disabled, and its cockpit was still sealed. Akane nosed her fighter up, and peered through Angel One's canopy. The form inside was still, but Akane could see her still breathing. She reconfigured to Gerwalk, and gently caught the other fighter, stopping its spin.

"Guardian Lead to Base. I've found Captain Saotome; her fighter's out of it."

"Base. You are required to recover the whole fighter."

Akane blinked. Standard operating procedure was to detach the nose section. Moving the entire ship would take up almost all of her reaction mass. "Angel Two, Angel Six. Gimme a hand."

The other two fighters slipped up, each one taking hold of the disabled ship, and they gently bore it home.


	16. 33: Mutable

**MUTABLE**

**BEEP**

**BEEP**

**BEEP**

Ranma groaned. Her mouth tasted like the inside of a Valkyrie technician's glove. The inside of her head felt like Akane and her mallet had taken up permanent residence. And every time that stupid machine went **BEEP**, she'd thump him a good one. From inside, where she couldn't dodge.

"How is she, Doctor?"

Speak of the devil.

"She's fine. Bit of a concussion, and for some reason, her blood sugar count is fairly low. Probably too much time in an adrenaline rush."

"Good. I mean, it's good to hear. That she's okay, that is."

"Hey, Akane, don't worry." A new voice. "I told you, she's unkillable."

"Actually, you told me she's a fast healer."

"All the same. Oh, excuse me, Commander."

"Still, I wish she'd wake up. She's been out of it for three days."

Ranma decided that that was her cue. She opened her eyes. Then clamped them shut again.

"Ow! Oh, damn, that hurt..."

"Ranma?"

"Please...turn off that light."

"Um..."

Ranma tried opening her eyes again, more slowly this time. A fuzzy Akane-shaped person was leaning over him, a worried expression on her face. Ranma blinked, and the person came into focus, allowing her to confirm that yes, it was Akane.

"You dummy. You've had us all worried!"

"Hey..." She tried to say more, but the sound of her own voice was very painful. She looked around, and spotted Shoko and Commander Hayes. "Lisa! When did you get back?"

"Ben, Max, Rick and I managed to hijack an enemy battle pod when the Zentraedi ship jumped back to Earth space." She grinned. "We got to see all the excitement up close and personal."

"Great. Glad you're okay. Akane?"

"Yes, Ranma?"

"When can I get out of here?"

Lisa answered for Akane. "Your squadron isn't due for another patrol any time soon."

"Oh..." Ranma tried to sit up, but was firmly pushed back down by Akane.

"Forget it. The doc says you can leave tomorrow, provided you behave."

"Okay..." She was really too tired to argue at the moment. In fact, another nap seemed like just the ticket...

* * *

Ranma hit the rewind button, then the play button. Did it again. And again. Every time, the screen showed the same thing: Angel One simply appearing, in a brief flash of light, in the middle of the furball.

"Nope. Sorry. I have no idea what happened."

She was seated at a table, the projector in front of her. To her left was Roy Fokker; to the right, Captain Henry Gloval, Doctor Emil Lang, Colonel Edward Maistroff, and Commander Lisa Hayes.

Doctor Lang leaned forward. "Nonetheless, the instruments in your Valkyrie confirm what the Macross' sensors and those of the other Valkyries in the area detected; somehow, you executed a very short range Space Fold. Furthermore, you did so with a Valkyrie. Fold engines are not standard equipment on a variable fighter, and probably never will be."

"Hey, Doc, look. I'm tellin' the truth, okay? I got no idea how it happened. I was twelve minutes out of the fight, and then I was right in the middle of the fight. Like, poof. I don't remember how I got there. An' the next thing I knew after that was, that alien Amazon slammed me with about a hundred missiles."

"Eighty five, to be exact, not counting the ones you managed to shoot down before impact."

"Yeah, whatever. Look, how many times I gotta tell you that?"

"It is sufficient." Dr. Lang made a note on his datapad. "Perhaps the Kustonov Heat-Piles had something to do with it. It is something we can look into in the future. Next: How is it you knew that the enemy pilot you faced was female?"

Ranma shrugged. "I dunno."

"Commander Hayes stated during her debriefing that the enemy forces included absolutely no females, that they were disgusted and appalled by the thought of dealing with females."

"I dunno. All I know is, the one that shot me down was a chick."

Someone at the table cleared their throat; Ranma didn't notice who, but figured she could make a good guess. _Memo to me: Don't use the word 'chick' during a debriefing. Especially if Commander Hayes is present._

Roy was fiddling with his own computer pad. "You stated that your rifle suffered a malfunction during the battle."

"Yep. If you can call blowing itself to fragments a 'malfunction.'"

"Is there any chance that the weapon had been damaged, either in combat or during the Space Fold?"

Ranma shrugged. "Yep, it is possible. I can't prove it any which way; the gun's floating off towards Neptune at the moment."

Doctor Lang shook his head. "We've had some problems with jamming on the GU-12, particularly after a reload. Since the gun pod is still experimental, we haven't got all the bugs worked out yet. Most likely, the weapon simply misfired. After all, it still functioned after the Space Fold, yes?" Lang picked up the remote and pushed the play button. "There is also the matter of your fighter's increased maneuverability."

"Yeah, it did seem to respond better, though its speed and acceleration were--whoa!" Ranma gaped at the screen. "No way. That can't be right."

Commander Hayes glanced down at her notes. "This tape was taken from Angel Fourteen's gun camera."

Ranma shook her head. "I don't get it. That's not how I remember the fight at all. Far as I could tell, I was mostly stationary." She waved a hand at the screen. "According to this, I was all over the sky. There's no way that coulda happened. I'd never have hit anything."

"Distances and speeds in a zero-gee environment can be difficult to judge." Doctor Lang nodded. "It appears that converting your fighter to use the Heat Pile engines was a good plan. The new enemy Mecha encountered--" The screen changed, to show a still of one of the Powered Armour suits. "Clearly, this Mecha is one of their best. It is better armoured than anything we've encountered yet, and has a far greater payload. Not to mention more maneuverable."

He tapped a button, and the screen began playing video again, showing one of the alien Powered Armour zipping through a formation of Valkyries. It didn't fire any weapons, just dodged some thirty missiles, causing several of them to hit each other, and one to actually strike the Valkyrie that had launched it. Next, it dove down towards the Macross, where a formation of Destroids was rushing to intercept it. It launched a swarm of missiles, blowing Destroids around like leaves, then paused to carve up the hull itself with a laser cannon.

Ranma twitched. As the gun camera footage stabilized, he managed to make out the markings on the enemy Mecha.

"That's her."

"Hmm?" Lang paused the tape, and turned to Ranma.

"That's the...the enemy pilot who shot me down. I recognize the markings." Ranma stood up and walked up to the screen. She pointed out two insignia on the image. "See this? And this? None of the others had anything like these markings. We've seen this one before. Occasionally, it turns up on the Officer's Battle Pod. I think we can assume it's a rank marking." She tapped the other marking. "And this one...I dunno."

Commander Hayes leaned forward. "Captain. Are you certain that this unit is the one that damaged your Valkyrie?"

"Yeah. That's her. No question."

Hayes turned to the rest of the board. "Gentlemen, I think it's safe to assume that this pilot is one of the elite."

"I think we've established that this new--"

"No, I mean elite even for this group." She stood and walked up to the image. "This pilot managed to fly right past the entire Blue Squadron, made them look like racing pylons. Did the same for their missiles. Engaged a company of Destroids, and defeated them all. And performed some sort of insertion mission against the fortress. And after that, flew back out past our pickets, to engage Captain Saotome."

She walked back to the table, picked up the remote and tapped a button. The image changed, back to Angel One. "Need I remind the board that Captain Saotome had engaged and destroyed six of these elite Mecha troops before their ace intervened, and singlehandedly defeated her in under twelve seconds?"

Ranma fumed. "She cheated. I was out of missiles."

Maistroff spoke for the first time. "Commander, while no-one here is disputing your operational qualifications, I must remind you that you are not trained in intelligence analysis. In light of Captain Saotome's report, I think it's safe to say that this marking most likely denotes a female pilot."

Commander Hayes wasn't having any of it. "Colonel, you will recall from my debrief, that when I was aboard the enemy flagship, I learned that the aliens are rigidly segregated. To the point that males and females, if they do come into contact with each other, invariably fight to the death. Hell, the aliens don't even believe that males and females are members of the same species. Why would such a force have a specific marking to denote a female pilot? For that matter, why would any force--"

Colonel Maistroff half-rose from his seat. "Look, just because you've been to--"

Captain Gloval cleared his throat. "I think that this shall conclude the debriefing. Gentlemen, and ladies, do bear in mind that the details of Commander Hayes' mission are still classified. Captain Saotome, thank you for your patience."

"Not a problem, Captain."

"Dismissed."

* * *

Minmei was in her glory.

Ranma was not one of the four officers on the stage. Rick Hunter and Lisa Hayes, as well as the two Vermillion pilots who had been on Hunter's wing when they were captured, were being presented with big fancy decorations. The award ceremony was obviously meant to lift morale. Lin Minmei herself had presented the medals, giving each officer some kind words as she did so, and now sang to the crowd, "in honour of their brave exploits." Ranma rather doubted that Minmei had even the faintest clue what the foursome had done to warrant such a fuss; nor would she care, if she did know.

To her, it was just a chance to make people happy.

Ranma had found the Purple Heart pinned to her pillow when she awoke the second time. She was of two minds about it; while she had been shot down and injured in combat, it seemed rather a minor injury. She'd hurt herself worse in practise. But one could hardly turn down a decoration. And at least it moved her further up the promotion schedule.

For the moment, Angel was standing down. They were due to go on patrol again in two more days, and the last of their fighters had been completed. Now, only the Super Valkyrie was under the torch, being rebuilt after its ordeal. Two replacement pilots were being posted from Firefly. And so Ranma lay in her bunk, watching the award ceremony on the television, bored.

_You choose not to be._

"Huh?"

Ranma sat up, and looked around her cabin.

"Someone there?"

No answer.

Ranma shrugged, and hopped out of bed. Her stomach was rubbing against her spine; time for some chow. And while she was at it, she'd try for that Phoenix pill again.

* * *

**RING**

Shampoo turned at the sound of the bell over the door. "Nihao! Welcome to--Airen!" She launched herself towards Ranma.

Ranma neatly side-stepped the Amazon. "Sorry. No. Not in the mood."

"Airen take Shan Pu on date, is okay?"

"No, it's not. Where's the ghoul?"

"You should show more respect to your elders, Son-in-law."

Ranma turned towards the old woman. "I ain't got any respect for you at all. It's your fault I'm stuck like this."

Across the room, a certain Major's ears perked up. Roy rarely wore a communicator, but in a pinch, the computer padd he was currently jotting on could access the Com Net.

"No, Son-in-law. It is your fault. If you'd just do the sensible thing--"

"Like pound you into a crepe?" Ranma launched herself forward, leading with a fist.

And was promptly smacked down into the ground for her trouble.

"Really, Son-in-law. You're a hundred years too early to defeat me."

At this point, Roy stood up and walked towards the fracas. "Attention on deck."

Ranma jumped to her feet and snapped to attention.

Roy turned towards Cologne. "So, you're the person responsible for locking Captain Saotome in her cursed form?"

"Yes, I am."

"Are you able to reverse the effect?"

"Yes."

"Do it. Now."

Cologne smirked. "I'm not one of your soldiers, Lieutenant."

"That's Major."

"Whatever." She shrugged. "Captain Saotome is in violation of our tribal laws, and must serve penance until she recants. Have you no repect for our laws?"

"No."

Roy scowled at Cologne. This old...he found it hard to refer to the figure before him as a woman. The word that leapt to mind was 'mummy'.

"Our laws--"

"Mean nothing to me. You have two choices. You give Captain Saotome the cure..."

Cologne smirked. As though this outsider male could--

"Or I have you spaced."

Cologne blinked. "What do you mean, spaced?"

"I mean you get put out an airlock into vacuum. You are endangering a U.N. Spacy officer, the Macross, and probably the Earth. And we happen to be at war."

"But our law--"

"Means nothing to me. Or anyone else on Macross."

"Bah. Stronger men than you have tried to bend an Amazon to their will. Over three thousand years of history, not one of them has succeeded." She chuckled. "You better have a lot of friends, sonny, if you want to carry out your threat."

Roy jerked his thumb towards the entrance. "Skull Squadron should be arriving any second now." He raised the padd. "While you and Saotome here were dancing, I whistled up a squadron of Valkyrie fighters. Would you care to bet that these three thousand years of Amazon history will stand up to Robotechnology?"

Cologne sagged. "Very well. You win." She turned, and poked Ranma with her staff. "You are cured, Son-in-law. And I will abjure the law. But know this: Both of you today have made a mistake." She turned back to Roy. "You would not object, of course, to Shan Pu courting Ranma, would you?"

"That's up to him."

Cologne smiled. "That will be enough."

Roy collared Ranma. "If you're quite done here...The White Dragon awaits us. We'll get some hot water for you there."

"Thanks, Roy. I owe you one."

"Deduct it from the three I owe you."

* * *

Ranma dumped the hot water over her head, and promptly became a him. He stretched, and grinned. "About freakin' time."

Roy scowled. "That old ghoul seemed rather confident in herself. I wonder what mistake it is you supposedly made?"

"I dunno. Not marryin' Shampoo, maybe?"

"How did you get yourself into that mess, anyway?"

"Well...if ya beat an Amazon in combat, ya gotta marry her."

Roy thought back to Ranma's debriefing, the previous day. "Maybe it's just as well that Zentraedi chick shot you down, rather than the other way around?"

"Whaddaya mean?"

"You really want two Amazons chasing you? Especially if one of them's fifty feet tall?"

Ranma gulped.


	17. 34: Mars

**MARS**

The Mockingbird fanjet was not originally part of U.N. Spacy's inventory, but once Macross had set up to produce them, they had rapidly become the jet of choice for recon work. Tagged with the call sign _Raptor_, they were fast, maneuverable, and easy to handle.

The original Mockingbird, Rick Hunter's private jet, had also featured twin solid rocket boosters. The Macross design teams had removed them in favour of the two small video cameras, environmental support and avionics, then, in a fit of engineer-type logic, had put them back on.

A Mockingbird, painted a sandy red, roared across the sky, mere feet above the surface of the Red Planet. Lisa adjusted the trim on the stick, glanced at her instruments to confirm her heading. Ahead of her, Mars Base Sara glimmered in the weak sunlight.

She toggled her radio. "Base, this is Raptor Two Six. I have Mars Base in sight. Looks like no movement so far."

"Roger that, Raptor. Be advised we are tracking low-level seismic disturbances in the area." Reception was lousy, but the Macross was below the horizon, and the Layer around this rock sucked.

"Affirm, Base."

A different voice crackled in her ear. "Remember, Lisa, your primary mission is to locate extra consumables. Especially food; we're rather low."

Lisa grinned. "Tell me about it. Roy sure is ticked that we're out of pineapple." She advanced the throttle, picked up some altitude, and began looking for a place to land.

Consumables may have been Base's primary reason for letting her run this recon, but her own, private reason remained the same. Upon coming within radio range of Mars, the Macross had detected an open commo link. Gloval was of the opinion that it was a simple computer glitch, but was willing to investigate.

Lisa hoped very much that it wasn't.

Eight years ago, Lisa had been very much in love with a man named Karl Riber. He was everything she'd ever seen that was good in a man - friendly, gentle, optimistic, dedicated to peace. She had often asked herself what it was that he saw in her - belligerent, antagonistic, a military brat, and quite plain to the bargain.

Objectivity was never one of Lisa's strong points.

Karl Riber had signed up with the U.N. Spacy, because he believed in their mission of peace. He'd volunteered for the mission to establish Mars Base Sara, even though it would take him away from Lisa for five long years. It was his dream to reach the stars.

Two years after he'd left, terrorists associated with anti-unification groups detonated a neutron device near Mars Base Sara. Though the base itself was mostly unharmed, the radiation from the blast would surely have vaporized everyone in the base.

Lisa had been devastated; even more so, because she'd had nobody to turn to for support. Her father hadn't approved of Karl, and it would be two more years before she'd meet Claudia Grant. So when an open communication link mysteriously appeared on a base that had been dead to the universe for six years...a base where the man she'd loved had supposedly died...well, once again, she'd been unable to look at the situation objectively.

* * *

"Captain Saotome, Lieutenant Hunter. Please report to Promotheus Briefing room."

Ranma cursed, and hopped up off of his chair. "Always when I'm eating."

Roy laughed. "When are you ever not eating?"

"You shut up. You're no better." Ranma dropped a forty-cred note on the table and turned for the door. And was stopped, as someone grabbed his collar.

"Ranma! Prepare to die!"

He turned, to see Hibiki Ryouga, eternal lost boy and sometime adversary. "Hey, Ryouga! Long time no see!"

Ryouga snarled, and drew back a fist.

"You sure you want to do that?" Roy stood up and cracked his knuckles. "Last time you tried it, it didn't work out well for you."

Ryouga hesitated, then lowered his hand. "Ranma, you've still got a lot to answer for!"

"I don't see how." Ranma scowled. "I didn't make you follow me to China. Wasn't my fault at all that you couldn't find your way to the duel. An' as for you gettin' pulped last time we met, that was your own damn fault."

"Dammit, I'm not blind!"

Ranma blinked.

"Did you think I'd never figure it out? That you and that red-haired girl are one and the same?"

Ranma shrugged. "I was kinda hopin' that nobody'd ever figure it out."

"You're the one that pushed me into the spring!"

"What spring?"

"At Jushenkyo!"

Ranma nodded slowly. "Okay, at least now I know what the heck you're talkin' about. I never pushed anyone into one of them. Wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. Not even on you."

"None the less. It was you, Ranma. The last thing I remember before my life changed forever, was being hit by a panda, then by a red-haired girl. And the girl pushed me off the cliff, as she chased the panda."

Ranma sighed, and shook his head. "It mighta been me. Hell, probably was."

"Then you admit your guilt!"

"Nope."

Roy scratched his head. "You're saying it was Ranma's fault you got cursed, because he pushed you in?" He turned to Ranma. "Why would you do that, Ranma?"

Ranma shrugged. "I was awful steamed at Pop at the time. I mean, I'd just gotten cursed, and a real nasty one, too. So I was chasin' him around the pools, tryin' to clobber him. But I was so mad that I couldn't see jack. I mighta hit Ryouga, might never have even realized he was there."

The bitch box crackled to life again. "Captain Saotome, Promotheus Briefing Room."

"Hell, I gotta go."

"Not so fast!" Ryouga moved again to block Ranma's exit. Roy rolled his eyes, and pulled the Lost Boy out of Ranma's path.

"Ranma, better hurry. I'll keep this clown busy while you're gone."

* * *

Miriya Parino, First Assault Group Leader of the Second Quadrano Battalion, hesitated at her commanding officer's door. Her hand was raised to touch the annunciator, but she held back.

_By the Protoculture, how I hate this woman!_

To Miriya, her skill at battle was all that mattered. Nothing existed beyond that. Excellence was her goal, and she took any step to ensure that she was the best in the Quadrano Battalion.

To her, her commanding officer's disregard for her own skill at arms was incomprehensible. To study tactics and strategy, that was one thing; it could only add to one's skills. But to forsake combat altogether--!

The Commander was rarely seen in the practise hall, still more rarely in the simulator room. In battle, the rare times one saw her there, she flew a Glaug. The Glaug had been developed by the Zentraedi, as an advanced form of the Regult used by both Zentraedi and Meltraedi alike. It was vastly inferior to the Queadlunn-Rau, and certainly not fit for a Meltraedi to even sit within. Further, the Commander had spent great amounts of time with Exedore - that weak, insipid excuse for a Zentraedi! So what if he had been around long enough to remember the Protoculture? So what if he was some great font of information? Battle was the true test, of both Zentraedi and Meltraedi. He wouldn't last ten seconds in battle, even against one of his own. And yet the Zentraedi allowed him to live!

_Just more proof that the Meltraedi are inherently superior to the Zentraedi._

But her Commander had spent many hours in conference with the gnomish, ugly little man. And when she had emerged, had announced this...this disgusting, incomprehensible agreement.

_Cease-fire._

Even the thought of it brought a bad taste to her mouth. Though the next word, _Alliance_, had all but made her violently ill.

She stabbed at the annunciator with one extended finger.

"**Come.**"

The doors parted before her, and she stepped into the Commander's presence. "**My Lady. Mission successful.**"

The Commander turned away from the viewport and nodded slightly. "**Excellent work, Miriya. We shall now wait for the retrieval signal. Do not approach the Micrones before then. The risk is too great.**"

Miriya sneered. "**Micrones! I saw how dangerous they were. I must have killed fifty of them in one mission!**"

"**And twelve of your own troops were slain. Six of them by one pilot alone.**"

"**I killed him.**"

"**Not so.**" The Commander turned back to the viewport. "**The Micrones recovered his Mecha. They would not have done that unless he lived.**"

Miriya scowled. "**It is irrelevant. He was defeated.**"

"**Do not let your ego get in the way of your mission again. Dismissed.**"

In the reflection of the viewport, Azonia, Commander of the Second Quadrano Battalion, watched Miriya salute and stalk out of the room. Only when the door was firmly closed behind her did she sigh, and massage her temples with her fingertips.

_By the Protoculture, how I hate that woman!_

* * *

"Surely, the Micrones are all insane."

Three men were gathered around a small fire, warming their hands. The shortest of the three was only four and a half feet tall, with spiky black hair and pasty skin. His companions were somewhat taller; the redhead was six foot, and powerfully built, and the one with the blue hair was five foot nine, though slender as a reed.

All three of them had, just a short while ago, been considerably larger.

All of them were dressed in clothes that were not much above rags. The fortress was rather chilly in most areas, and the threesome were used to much warmer environments. Scattered about them were an odd collection of items: a portable CD player, a Minmei doll, a bowl with strange markings on the side, some sort of framework covered in beads, and around thirty batteries.

"No marching. Nobody in step at all. Not enough uniforms."

The burly one sighed. "How can any society exist with so little structure? It's purely chaotic. We can't even requisition meals."

"At least they didn't find the entry capsule."

"Hey. You three."

The threesome turned, to see a woman standing at the end of the alley. She was wearing a uniform that they recognized: U.N. Spacy.

The short one stood up. "Yeah?"

"What the heck are you guys doing out here?" The Lieutenant shook her head. "Thought they'd billeted everyone by now."

"Ah, well, I can take care of that." The Lieutenant flipped open a notepad. "Names?"

"Um...I'm Rico." The short guy jerked a thumb back towards his partners. "Those're Bron and Konda."

"Last names?"

"Umm..." Rico considered. They'd managed to figure out that each Microne had two names. Now just to pick a common one..."Mary."

The woman blinked, then jotted something down. "Okay. Why not? What about those two?"

"They're also Mary."

Another blink. "All three of you have the last name Mary. Okay. You brothers?"

"Of course!" Rico was offended. As if this...this female could dare to suggest otherwise!

Apparently, it was the right thing to say; the woman relaxed. "Fine." She tore the page out of the notebook, and handed it to Rico. "Take this to the location listed at the top of the page. They'll set you up."

"Thank you." One of those meaningless Microne phrases. He turned to his brothers. "C'mon, let's go. On the bounce!"

Akane watched the three run off, and shrugged. Apparently, there were still people in the world stupid enough that not even the Macross' safety net could help them. She turned, and continued on to the briefing room.

It would be several months before she discovered that she'd just aided and abetted an enemy espionage unit.

* * *

"Angel Flight One, Macross. You are clear for takeoff. Squawk one one three five."

Ranma tapped her mike. "Macross, aye. Taxiing now." She dialed her transponder, then waved the go to the deck chief. She advanced the throttle, and her Gerwalk-mode Valkyrie slowly lifted off into the air.

It felt good to fly in atmosphere again, even if the atmosphere was thin and toxic. There was just something about air, biting into her wings and control surfaces. Her link to her Mecha was closer than ever, thanks to the wierd engines that Dr. Lang had ordered installed in her Valkyrie. So she could _feel_ the air, the pressure against the elevons and ailerons.

It beat vacuum, any day of the week.

The other five Valkyries were also taking off, though somewhat slower than hers. While the S-model seemed less suitable for space, here in atmosphere she could tell she was gonna leave her wingmates in the dust.

"Angel Lead, your vector two two seven for intercept. There are friendlies in that area, so watch your targets."

"Aye." She flipped over to Angel's freak. "Okay, gang. Let's go check it out. Remember, there's a Cat's Eye and a Mockingbird out there, but no Mecha. And so far, it's just seismic activity. But keep 'em peeled."

* * *

"**All mines are in place, my Lord.**"

Khyron nodded. His handsome face was twisted into a sneer, and his high-necked cloak was pulled in close to his frame, to cut the chill. The air here was thin, but there was enough for a Zentraedi officer to survive. His troops were buttoned up inside their Mecha; exposure to this atmosphere would likely kill them. But he was not built so weakly as they.

"**Excellent, Grel. Gerao. Signal the Meltraedi, and tell that Azonia person that the trap is laid. Tight beam only; if you give away our position, you'll not have to worry about the Micrones killing you.**"

"**Understood, my Lord.**"

* * *

Lisa slowly walked down the corridor, glancing at name plates on each door. Her primary mission had been completed, though she wasn't happy with the results; a search of the food storage compartments quickly proved that the base's supplies had decayed past usefulness.

_So much for the century-long shelf life._

Similarly, the communications uplink had suffered some odd short circuit, bringing it on-line for no apparent reason. She'd shut down the link, then informed Macross of the situation. They'd requested her immediate return, but she'd argued in favour of a visual search of the compound. And since she was the officer on site...

She stopped, and her gloved hand traced along the plate on the door before her.

**Riber**

She opened the door and stepped into the cabin. It was small, even smaller than her own cabin aboard the ship. A bunk, doubling as a desk when the mattress was flipped up. A chair, currently lying on its side. A small shelf, containing various bits of memorabilia...She picked up a picture frame, lying face down on the top shelf. It was half buried in red sand, as the window had shattered long ago, but the picture itself was still intact. It showed her and Karl, just before he'd had to leave.

She fell to her knees, dropping the picture.

She couldn't lie to herself any longer.

* * *

Ranma creeped the Mecha up to the edge of the crevice. The Cat's Eye had reported a seismic disturbance here about half an hour ago, and on its last pass, about five minutes ago, had registered a sizeable magnetic anomaly. Ranma hadn't spotted the Mockingbird yet, but commo traffic from Base had clarified that; it had landed, and its pilot was carrying out a leg recon on the old Mars Base.

She pulled the Mecha another five feet, just high enough to get a sensor boom over the edge. And gasped.

Down in the crevice were some forty or fifty Zentraedi Battle Pods. Mostly the Trooper type, but she also noticed a few Artillery Pods. Those were definitely bad news. Also, she spotted one of the over-powered Officer Pods. Its hatch was standing open, and the pilot, a tall, arrogant scoundrel from the looks of him, was waving a hand at the pods. His lips were moving, but the distortion was too strong for Ranma to be able to read his lips.

_Not like I speak Zentraedi anyway. And at least there's no Amazons._

She backed the Mecha off, then touched a control to activate her laser communications. The coherent beam was impossible to detect by electronic intercept gear, but relied on a line-of-sight to operate. She centered Amy's Valkyrie in her gunsights, recorded a brief assessment of the situation, and tapped the SEND button.

* * *

"Captain Saotome reports enemy Mecha, approximately battalion strength, including command and support elements. Assets on site include six Valkyries, one Cat's Eye, and two Destroids within missile range."

Gloval was not a happy man. He'd landed on Mars, after a heated argument with his exec, on the off chance of finding more supplies. Not only was that a bust, but now it seemed that the Zentraedi had been here waiting for them.

"Ignore them. Sound recall, all units. Sammie, warm up the gravitic drive; time to see if the repairs will hold. Vanessa, start the reactors, in case they don't. And Kim, activate the pin-point barrier system."

A chorus of "Aye, Captain", and the bridge crew sprang to work like a well-oiled machine. Gloval leaned back in his seat and scowled.

* * *

"**My Lord, the Dimensional Fortress is starting her engines.**"

Khyron whirled to face his aide. "**Status of mines?**"

"**Ninety-five percent charged.**"

"**It'll have to do. Activate them.**"

* * *

"Captain! Local gravity has increased forty-seven percent!"

"Grav drive off-line; it's overloaded."

"Thrusters aren't responding."

"Incoming vessels. Twenty-two ships are entering atmosphere, Captain. Configuration unknown. Oh, and they're launching fighters."

Gloval nearly bit through the stem of his pipe.

"It's a trap!"


	18. 35: Aces

**ACES**

The Macross shuddered under the enemy's cannon fire.

"Sector Twelve reports mild damage, mostly to environmental systems."

"Daedalus reports catapult failure, Captain. They're launching fighters by VTOL at this time."

"Pinpoint Barrier System is low on power, Captain. Doctor Lang is requesting time to power it down, get it back to full strength."

"Tell him to ask the Zentraedi if they'd mind giving us some more time," snarled the Captain.

"Sir, Angel Squadron reports contact with enemy forces."

* * *

"Contact, Angel Lead. Seismics spiking high."

"Roger. Angel Two, shift to Soldier. The rest of you, stay in Gerwalk." Ranma shifted her own Valkyrie to Soldier Mode, and readied the gun pod.

There was a few seconds' wait, and then they came boiling out of the chasm like a swarm of angry insects. Luckily, they were about as easy to swat.

Angel Two pressed the trigger on her gun pod, and the GU-11 spat a carefully-measured fifty-round burst of depleted-uranium slugs. The burst tore straight through a pod, blowing it in half. Before the pod had time to collapse, she'd shifted target to a powered armour suit - not one of the Amazon suits, Ranma was glad to see - and dropped the next fifty rounds right through the helmet visor.

_Ouch._

Ranma sighted on the Officer's Pod. So far, they'd only discovered one weakness on that style of pod, and that was the sensor port right in the front. A shot there would leave the pod blind. Though it would not kill the pilot, it would effectively remove the target from the battle.

Her gun pod was the new GU-12 type. Doctor Lang had assured her that the pod would not jam when reloaded, as the last one would. Ranma had already discarded the second clip of ammo; her left leg socket held a captured Zentraedi laser pistol. She pulled the trigger, and the massive 100mm cannon barked. To her dismay, the Officer's Pod simply jetted sideways to avoid the round.

Elsewhere, her girls were mixing it up. Angel Three and Four had taken to the skies, and had launched all of their missiles in one salvo. The Artillery Pods were but memories, and several Battle Pods were also out of commission.

Ranma pulled the trigger again, and again the rifle/cannon heaved a massive tungsten penetrator. The Officer's Pod sidestepped nimbly, and the round slammed into a Battle Pod behind it.

_This guy's good._

The Pod jumped into the air, and kicked in its jets; it roared over her head and dropped into the melee.

"Angel Three, clear your six, that Officer's Pod is getting too close."

"Roger, Captain." Kosuji snapped the fighter around, reconfiguring to Soldier mode, and snapped off a burst from the GU-11 rifle/cannon. The shot blew the carapace off of a Battle Pod, exposing the Zentraedi inside to the low pressure and insufficient oxygen. Next, she turned, and loosed a sustained burst on the Battle Pod. The rounds battered the enemy pod, and it broke off, but not before launching a volley of missiles at Angel Three. The missiles slammed into the Valkyrie, and Ranma screamed in rage.

Things were happening too fast. The conventional battle pods were dropping like flies, but that officer was showing far too much skill for Ranma's liking. So far, nobody had scored a solid hit on it. She tapped her mike button. "Angel Lead to Base. We need fire support."

"Roger, Angel. Elements of the Fifth Cavalry are within missile range of your position, and are loading laser guided rounds. Paint them a target."

"Affirm, Base." Her S-variant Valkyrie had an integral ground laser designator; She flipped it on and haloed the enemy Battle Pod. "Fifth, the music is playing."

A new voice crackled over the Tac Net. "Aye, Angel, and it sounds just fine. Firing two missiles; ETA thirty-four seconds."

Ranma gritted her teeth; The Angels were keeping the Officer's Pod busy, but there were a few Artillery and Recon Pods still moving, not to mention a Power Suit. She couldn't use her targeting systems; they were tied up in painting the Officer's Pod. She pulled the rifle around, holding it at arm's length, and started pulling the trigger. It was tricky, since the electronics wanted to make the gun fire at the Officer's Pod, and it took her three tries to kill the Artillery Pod. The Power Suit and the surviving Battle Pods took to the air, and she turned back to the Officer.

The missiles were now visible on radar, as well as Kosuji's rescue beacon; At least she'd managed to punch out. The Officer's Pod obviously had a good radar set; it pivoted momentarily towards the missiles, then leaped into the air and followed its surviving troops out of the combat.

A whoop went up over the Tac Net, and Ranma sighed in relief. One of their number was down, but had survived, and everyone else was intact. It could have gone an awful lot worse.

* * *

"Angel Lead reports enemy Mecha have been routed, but they can't get at the gravity devices."

"Very well." Gloval leaned back in his seat and pulled the brim of his cap down. "Contact Eyes Front and see what they've learned."

* * *

"Raptor Two Six, Eyes Front."

Lisa wanted to ignore the radio, but knew she couldn't. _Stupid sense of duty._ She struggled to her feet and tapped the radio. "Raptor Two Six. Go ahead, Eyes Front."

"Two Six, the area around the Macross has been mined. Some sort of gravity-enhancing device. They're being powered by the base's fusion reactor. We need that reactor taken down."

"Got it. I'm proceeding to the control room." She jumped to her feet and ran from the room.

* * *

Ranma acknowledged the report from Eyes Front, then turned to the rest of her flight. "Angels, word from Eyes Front. We got some bandits moving in on Mars Base Sara. We gotta stop them from reaching it." Ranma didn't know much more than that, but didn't really need to. Orders were enough. "Flight two is on the cats, and Guardian's being called up. But we're gonna be there first. Move out!"

She shifted to Gerwalk and lifted into the air, then shifted again, to Fighter, and moved the throttle all the way up.

* * *

The door to Central Control was pneumatically powered, but the circuitry to activate it wasn't functioning. Lisa wrenched open an access panel, and pulled on the manual release. Nothing. She checked the pressure gauge next to the manual release, and realized that the system was still under pressure. She opened a valve. A faint hiss reached her through the suit's external microphone; the door's cylinder was being depressurized. When the hiss faded, she started cranking open the door.

Inside, the control room was a mess. She crossed to the fusion reactor's controls, and brought them on-line. Next, she tapped out the codes required to power down the reactor.

**ERROR**

**PLEASE RE-ENTER**

She blinked. The codes were standardized all through this sort of machinery. She tapped her communicators. "Eyes Front, contact Macross and have them pull the command codes for Mars Base Sara." While she waited, she re-typed the codes.

**ERROR**

**PLEASE RE-ENTER**

"Raptor Two Six, Macross reports, fusion shutdown codes are alpha whiskey bravo three three niner."

Well, that matched what she'd typed. She frowned, and pulled the logs. To her surprise, the codes had been changed only a few hours ago. And no telling what the new codes were. She clicked her communicator.

"Eyes Front, this is Raptor Two Six. Advise Macross that the control computers for the fusion powerplant have been altered. I have to go down to the engineering section."

"Understood, Two Six."

She stood up, and ran from the computer room. She had a very bad feeling about the whole situation.

_We know the Zentraedi can change their size. They must have set this up. Including the communications gear. And there might still be some in here..._

She suddenly found herself wishing she'd brought a sidearm.

* * *

"Angel Flight Two to Angel Lead. How're y'all doing?"

Ranma grinned. "Not too bad, Angel Seven."

"Good. That means I get to wreck your day. We got sixteen incoming Mecha, launched from the capital ship that's firing on the Macross."

Ranma rolled her eyes. "Lemme guess: Powered Suits."

"You got it."

"This is not good. Status of Flight Three?"

"Just buttoning up as we speak. They'll be on station in three minutes."

"Right. Let's get moving."

* * *

Miriya smiled. She recognized the custom Valkyrie, flying in the lead. She had a score to settle with this Microne. She clicked on her transmitter, and selected the Microne's battle channel. She'd taken the time to learn to speak the Micronian language; it would be a pleasure to greet this one in his own language.

"We meet again, small one. This time things will not go in your favour."

"Go suck eggs!"

The taunt was crude, but this was to be expected from a Microne. What was surprising, was the fact that the voice that replied had been female. She raised an eyebrow. "Well, now. I shall enjoy this." She clicked over to the primary frequency. "**Their leader is mine. But as for the rest: Smite them from the skies!**"

* * *

Lisa had to manually open the airlock as well. The weather had turned nasty; a dust storm was starting to come up. And to make matters worse, it seemed that there was a dogfight directly above her. She glanced towards the engineering building; twenty meters away, right underneath that battle.

She sighed; there was no other way. The reactor itself was deeply buried; none of the Valkyries could possibly get it. She braced herself, then ran.

* * *

Ranma was badly latched; she couldn't see the small figure dashing across the desert. But Angel Thirteen did.

"Hey, that's Commander Hayes!" She clicked her radio. "Guardians, Raptor Two Six is below us. Let's make sure she gets to the generator."

"Two."

"Three."

"Four."

"Five."

"Six."

Already, Akane could see several of the Powered Armour vectoring in on the Commander. She tapped her controls, bringing the main laser cannons on line, and sliced one clean through.

"Wow! I like this variant!"

* * *

It was quickly becoming apparent to Miriya that she was up against a vastly superior force. Though she had a significant numerical advantage, her forces were being mown down like grass. The Microne pilots were obviously an elite unit; she quickly concluded that, like their leader, they must all be female. She herself was finding her adversary far more ready for her this time. They had been dancing now for forty-seven pulses, and neither had managed to score a hit. She spared a quarter-pulse to glance at her tactical display; less than ten Quadranos remained alive.

"**All forces, advance on our mothership. I shall cover your advancement.**" The Meltraedi language did not have a word for 'retreat'. She toggled her missile launchers, and fired sixteen missiles from each launcher. To her shock, the enemy pilot executed a micro-spacefold maneuver - _in atmosphere, no less!_ - and evaded the volley.

But the fold, if that's truly what it was, seemed to disorient the Microne. Miriya smiled, and switched over to impact cannon. She hammered the Valkyrie with several bursts from the cannon, and watched it slam into the ground.

She was about to close in for the kill, when she realized that the other Valkyries had turned towards her, cannons raised. She snorted; Micrones posed no threat. And then reconsidered; these were an elite force, of females, and fought like demons besides. And during her duel with their leader, had done nothing. Even now, as she hovered, it seemed that they merely waited for her to leave the field.

Which she did. Grinding her teeth, growling in discontentment, but intact.

_Next time, Microne._

* * *

Akane lowered the cannon and breathed a sigh of relief.

_For a second there, I thought she was gonna go for it anyway._

* * *

Lisa pulled the access panel off of the reactor's control systems, and cursed. Sure enough, the Zentraedi had been here; the controls were wrecked. She'd seen, while on board the Zentraedi cruiser, that the Zentraedi couldn't really fix or modify anything. No subtle sabotage here; wires had been ripped out and circuit boards smashed.

No matter. She had one further option. She reached for the fission reactor control system. Its computer was still online, and when she entered the control codes, responded cheerfully. She grinned; the fusion reactor was a marvellous thing, but it needed a small fission reaction to start it going. Six fuel bundles would last the reactor from now until the last trump; they'd also make a hell of a bang, and bring down the fusion reaction with them. First, she turned off the auto-scram function, then removed the software neccessary to cause a manual scram, just in case the Zentraedi returned. Next, she programmed a ten minute delay, to be followed by the machine ejecting its control rods.

"Eyes Front, Raptor Two Six. Advise you get everyone out of here, pronto. This area is gonna go boom."

* * *

Ranma was okay, but was mad enough to chew nails. Akane listened to her rant for a few seconds, then flicked off the radio and waved Angel Two over. The two of them lifted Ranma's fighter, then flew back towards the Macross. Akane looked around the squadron; there were only five of them left, plus Ranma.

* * *

Lisa had followed the most expedient route back to the ship, which had led her back through the Mars Base proper. And she paused, at the door.

_Karl..._

Had he been here, when the neutron bomb went up? Perhaps asleep, so he never felt a thing? Or had he perhaps been on duty when it happened. It would be like him; once he'd decided that something needed doing, he'd next to kill himself making it happen. Duty had been an important thing to him.

_Duty. Hah! All it's ever gotten me is a load of stress..._

She picked up the picture again. Still intact, after all these years, without even a crack in the glass. The frame was a bit tarnished, but a bit of polish would fix that up.

"Raptor Two Six, Eyes Front."

She ignored it. To hell with duty. It had gotten Karl killed, at a time when she'd needed him the most.

"Raptor Two Six, Eyes Front."

She clicked the radio. "Eyes Front...Best get back to the Macross. This place is going to be a radioactive dust cloud in about five minutes."

"Raptor Two Six--"

She pulled the radio off of her suit, and tossed it aside. There was a certain symmetry to it. Karl had died here, by radiation, due to a hostile force...

* * *

Ranma fought her way through the crowd of pilots and crew, till she was face to face with Colonel Maistroff. "Sir! Commander Hayes is still out in the desert, and there's a nuke gonna go off right next to her. Request permission to rescue her."

"Denied."

"_What?_"

"Your command is shot to hell, Saotome. Five effectives. Plus, your own aircraft is in for repairs. Again. I can't risk sending an incompetent on a mission this important."

Ranma lunged forward, but was intercepted by Amy and Akane. "Forget it, Captain," growled Akane. "He's not worth it."

"You're just gonna leave the Commander out to die? You son of a--"

"I said nothing of the sort." He turned to Roy. "Get me Lieutenant Hunter."

Roy scowled at Maistroff, then snapped to attention and threw him a salute.

"Yes, sir."

* * *

"Captain, power to the gravitic mines has been cut. And Lieutenant Hunter reports Commander Hayes returned to the ship safely."

Gloval nodded. "Give me Zed minus fifty, please."

"Zed minus fifty, aye. Captain, the Zentraedi ship is breaking off its attack. Should I program the main gun?"

"No, let them go." Gloval pulled his pipe from his pocket and began to pack it. "We can't afford to waste the energy. If they're going to let us leave without a fight, so be it."

* * *

"Captain Ranma Saotome." Gloval read from the paper. "The following charges have been brought against you, by Colonel Maistroff. Section Fifteen Oh Five, insubordination; Section Twenty Thirteen, assaulting or attempting to assault a superior officer, the United Nations Space Administration having been on wartime footing; Section Fifteen Forty-Seven, gross incompetence unbefitting an officer; Section Fifteen Fifty-Nine, conduct unbecoming an officer." He looked up from the paper. "This board has considered the evidence brought against you.

"It is the finding of this board that you are guilty of insubordination and assault of a superior officer. You are found innocent of the other two charges.

"Therefore, it has been further decided by this board that you shall be reduced twenty points in the promotion schedule; this will place you behind all other Captains, and even some of your own Lieutenants may make Major before you. Furthermore, you are sentenced to thirty days in the brig.

"Remove the prisoner."

Ranma allowed himself to be led from the boardroom. The taste of it all was bad in his mouth. Angel Squadron had been disbanded, its colours struck, and his pilots scattered throughout the squadrons. Kanzaki Shoko was among those who had died in battle. And it seemed likely that he'd never have a command again.

Not that he wanted one.

"Ranma."

He looked up, to see Commander Hayes. The guard that was escorting him raised a hand, and she stopped some distance away.

"Ranma...I heard from Akane that you volunteered to go pull me out."

He nodded. "Wasn't nothin', really. Anyone woulda."

"Nobody else did. Rick was ordered in, remember. I doubt he would have volunteered."

Ranma grinned a bit. "Give the guy credit, willya?"

She smiled and nodded. "All right. I shall." She sobered. "I'll see you when you get out. And trust me. You'll still have a squadron to command."

"Yeah, right."

"I mean it." She pointed at him. "You're not through with me yet."

* * *

Miriya stared out at the stars through the porthole.

_Second time lucky, Microne. The third time, the victory shall go to me. There shall be a reckoning._

She waved a fist towards the Macross.

"**You're not through with me yet!**"


	19. 36: Blockade

**BLOCKADE**

"Before the misfold, we had an unusual situation. Far more airplanes than pilots." Tech Sergeant Jameson gestured down the hall, then turned to the recruit next to him. "See these bays? We had nine hundred and sixty Valkyries, ninety-six Destroids of various types, and six experimental or prototype mecha."

"And how many do we have now?"

"Well, the Valks have taken the brunt of the battle, and we're down to less than one hundred seventy of them. The Destroids have only seen three major engagements, and we still have eighty or so. The experimental jobs?" Jameson waved a hand towards the bay at the end of the deck. "Just two."

"Where are the rest of the experimentals?"

Jameson sighed. "All of 'em were fielded. The Valkyrie-J can be fitted with external modules, and three of the experimental sets were armour and missile pod combos. Lieutenant Hunter took two of them out, the Space Augmentation Package and the Armour Valkyrie Package. Scrapped 'em both. The Valkyrie-S was issued to Captain Saotome, and he smashed it up some, but it's almost done being repaired. But then back it goes to the front lines. The Training Augmentation Package just never worked, and was broken up for parts. As was the Micro-Valk."

"The what?"

"Oh, some dimwit figured it'd be a good idea to make a Veritech that stood only twelve feet tall. The pilot was crammed into a tiny little cockpit, could barely move. And the thing didn't even have a Soldier Mode. We broke it up for parts; all that's left of her is the engines. So the last one we have is the Rapier."

The recruit walked down the length of the bay, and looked up at the Rapier. It was small, something like two-thirds the overall size of a Valkyrie. Her carriage was somewhat higher, and her control planes rose more closely to the vertical, but other than those details, she could easily have been mistaken for the larger Valkyrie.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Oh, we stripped out the avionics and life support a while back. Took the engines out, too. Nothing else in her'd fit any other jet in the hangar."

The recruit walked up to the Rapier, and pulled himself up the service ladder. He looked around the cockpit of the fighter, noting that it was somewhat smaller than that of the Valkyrie. Gaping holes showed in the instrument panels where electronics had been removed.

"I think I'll take this one."

Jameson scratched his head. "You sure? I mean, any of the Valks would be a lot easier to scratch up parts for."

"Hey, it's supposed to be a challenge, right? And we need every jet we can get, right?" The recruit hopped down. "If I get this thing flying, then not even Commandant Stevens will refuse my qualification."

"True." Jameson shook his head. "I just hope you aren't in over your head." He started walking towards his office, then turned back to the recruit. "You sure you can find your way back?"

Recruit Third Grade Hibiki Ryouga, U. N. Spacy, laughed unsteadily. "I'm not _that_ bad..."

* * *

Tendo Akane stepped into the Blue Squadron's ready room.

"Officer on the deck!"

The squadron snapped to attention, all save one rather gangly dark-haired youth who was sprawled on the CO's desk. Akane stepped up to him, double-checked his rank insignia, then handed him her orders.

"Ah, fresh meat for the grinder." The Captain sat up straight, and flipped through her orders. "Hey, it says here you're my new XO."

"Yes, sir."

"A Fallen Angel, at that."

"Silence, knave! You cannot speak of the beauteous Tendo Akane in such--"

"Shut up, _Lieutenant_ Kuno. She's your replacement."

"But--"

"You're bucking for Sergeant real quick here, Kuno." The CO scowled down at the Samurai wannabe, then turned back to Akane. "I'm Captain Mototada, CO of Blue." He hopped to his feet and bowed to her. "We welcome you here."

Akane relaxed for the first time since she'd recieved her orders. "Thank you, Captain." She bowed. "I'll try not to embarrass your Squadron."

"You know what our next orders are to be?"

"No, sir."

"We'll be screening the Macross from enemy action while she shapes orbit for re-entry. We'll be closely co-ordinating with Vermillion on this job; I want you to go chat with their CO, get a copy of their TOE. Vermillion's equipment is a little more modern than ours."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, and Lieutenant?" The Captain grinned. "If Kuno gets on your nerves, you have my full permission to beat the hell out of him."

Akane smiled. "Why, thank you, Captain. I'll be looking forward to it."

* * *

Her welcome at Blue was surprisingly warm; at Vermillion's ready room, she got rather a different surprise.

"Why the hell did they send you?"

Akane blinked. "Excuse me, Lieutenant?"

"Why couldn't Mototada come himself to get this?" Hunter dropped the folder in front of Tendo. "Or even sent that jerk Kuno down to pick it up?"

Akane began to darken. "Is there a problem, Lieutenant?"

One of Hunter's Sergeants, a geeky-looking guy with glasses and blue hair, sat up. "Hey, Rick. Be easy, okay? I mean, she's an Ace."

Hunter grumbled something under his breath, then looked back to Akane. "Vermillion's got fifteen C-type Valkyries, two J-type, and one S-type at its disposal. Both the Jaybirds and the Super are fitted to carry the Scorpion missile. The S-type carries a GU-12."

Akane flipped through the folder, and her eyes widened. "That Super Valkyrie is Captain Saotome's jet."

"Yeah, but he's in the brig, so Doctor Lang assigned it to Max, here."

Max spread his hands. "Hey, it wasn't my idea. Lang said he needed a volunteer, and you know what that means in anybody's army."

Akane nodded. "Well, I suppose they weren't likely to just let it sit idle. We're awfully short on fighters."

Hunter muttered, "Yeah, especially with twelve being lost by Angel--"

Akane slammed the folder down on Hunter's desk and grabbed the front of his jacket. "Look, pal, you are within ten seconds of the worst beating of your life!"

Hunter's eyes widened.

Max hopped up and laid a hand on Akane's wrist. "Easy, Lieutenant. He ain't worth it." He smiled. "Trust me. I work with him!"

"Max!"

Another Sergeant walked forward, a giant of a man, and dropped a huge hand on Akane's shoulder. "Tell ya what, Lieutenant. Why don't Max and I buy you a pint, to apologize on behalf of the Looie, and we'll go over this TOE with ya." He glowered down at Hunter. "We'll leave Lieutenant Hunter here."

Akane smiled slightly. "Thank you, Sergeant. I'd like that."

* * *

"**Your arrogance will yet be the undoing of you, Miriya.**" Khyron scowled at the Meltraedi Ace's image. "**Twice you have faced this Micronian devil, and twice you have lost! Even I have fallen before his prowess.**"

"**You presume too much, Khyron.**" Miriya sneered. "**The pilot that you speak of is in fact a female of their species.**"

"**Impossible. I have seen several of their pilots; they are male.**"

"**I have spoken with the pilot; she is definitely female.**" Miriya leaned forward, filling the projecbeam's field of view. "**The entire unit that she leads is female; it is obvious from their superior fighting skills.**"

"**Superior, yes.**" Khyron nodded. "**Superior even to your own skills.**"

"**The Microne has never defeated me! Twice I have disabled her combat mecha, and was prevented from finishing her off!**"

"**Twice you have nearly lost your own life in the process.**" Khyron smiled patronizingly; time to drive the needle home. "**Perhaps you should admit defeat. Obviously this Microne is more than you can handle.**" He looked away. "**Best if you simply avoid her.**"

Miriya bared her teeth, and disabled the projecbeam.

"**Think she'll take the bait, My Lord?**"

Khyron nodded. "**Oh, yes, Grel. As I said...her arrogance will be her undoing.**"

* * *

Thirty-six Valkyries, the combined might of Blue and Vermillion Squadron, roared from the catapults and quickly formed up. Vermillion had been designated lead for this sortie. Long range radar had detected twelve incoming bogies. Gloval had wasted no time; the Valkyries had been launched well before any identification could be made.

Roy Fokker had taken command of Blue's third Flight, due to its flight leader having taken ill. Blue Thirteen was the only G-type Valkyrie in either Squadron. Optimized for electronic warfare, the G was only lightly armed compared to a conventional Valkyrie, but carried a powerful jamming suite and radar system. Her advanced targeting computer could handle the load for an entire battalion of fighters.

"Vermillion Lead, this is Blue Thirteen. Be advised that I am detecting heavy use of K-band radar sets ahead. This is consistent with either the Zentraedi recon pod, or that new powered armour that's been turning up."

"Affirm, Blue Thirteen. Can you confirm which type?"

"No problem, Little Brother." It somewhat irked Roy that he had to take orders from Rick Hunter - not only did he outrank the Vermillion commander, but he'd diapered him at one point. "I'm showing four thermal blooms per unit; not consistent with battle pods. Probably armour."

"Great."

"No kidding. Getting some communication stuff; it sounds like the mothership is yelling their head off at the armour."

"Jam 'em."

"You got it."

"By threes, break and attack."

* * *

Ahead of them, Miriya smiled as Azonia's face vanished from her comm screens in a blur of Micronian jamming static. She smiled slightly. It would save her the trouble of fabricating an equipment failure. And her short range communications were unaffected.

"**To all Quadranos: There is one enemy ace ahead, who will demonstrate superior fighting skill. You are to leave the execution of that one to me. But for the rest: Smite them from the sky!**"

* * *

The Valkyries didn't even have time to blink before they found themselves in the rat race.

"Blue Thirteen. I need some help here. Jenkins and Yoshi are down."

"Roger, Thirteen. Seven, can you assist?"

Akane clicked her mike. "Negative, Lead. I'm latched."

"Vermillion Lead. I can assist Blue Thirteen."

"Thanks, Little Brother."

Vermillion Lead wheeled about, shifting to Soldier and unlimbering its rifle/cannon. The Quadrano that was chasing Blue Thirteen never even realized that it was in Hunter's gun sights until the first shells rattled off its armour.

"Oh, hell. These things can bounce our guns."

But the Quadrano had been shaken by the attack, and broke off its pursuit. Roy took advantage of the situation, dropping true and launching two Stiletto missiles at the powered armour. The Quadrano exploded in a silent fireball.

* * *

Miriya smirked. "**There you are...**" She hit her thrusters and roared into the fray.

* * *

"Blue Thirteen! Watch your back!"

Roy whirled, still in Gerwalk, and sprayed the incoming mecha. To his surprise, the suit jinked right out of his gunsight and peppered his mecha with its own chest cannons. He bit back a yell of pain as he felt shrapnel cut into him.

"Roy!"

"I'm okay, Rick." He fired two more Stilettos, but the enemy armour shot them down, and hammered him again.

Vermillion Seven haloed the fighting machine that was tearing into the Skull Commander's unit and pulled the trigger. A single 100mm teflon-coated slug slammed into the suit, knocking it off course.

"Blue Thirteen, bug out. I can cover your retreat."

"Affirm, Sergeant." Roy's voice sounded weak and strained, as though he were fighting back pain. "She's all yours."

* * *

Miriya ignored the damaged fighter that was now limping away from the battle; she had mistakenly assumed, due to the skill demonstrated by its pilot, that it had been her quarry. But now she recognized the fighter ahead of her; it was of a slightly different construction than the others, and would surely prove a test of her skill.

She smirked. "**Third time's the charm, Microne...**"

* * *

"Uh, oh..." Max hauled back on the stick as the enemy mecha disgorged a cloud of missiles. His battle computer quickly overloaded, which meant that the enemy had launched at least fifty missiles. He ignored it, and switched over to manual targeting.

This Zentraedi pilot - a female, if Captain Saotome was to be believed - was definitely skilled. She'd been harassing Fokker quite badly, and was now attacking him with the same ferocity. The other Zentraedi mecha seemed to have backed off, as though they wanted to watch their boss work; he realized that his own teammates were doing the same.

"Showdown, eh?" He pickled the head laser's trigger, blasting down missile after missile; a lucky shot caused a chain reaction that exploded most of the volley. "That's just fine, lady."

* * *

Miriya gaped as the enemy fighter shot down her entire missile volley, then sailed through the debris to engage her in close quarters. She quickly found herself on the defensive, stressing the inertial thrust system of her Queadlunn-Rau as she darted about, avoiding transuranic slugs, laser blasts, and the occasional guided missile. She realized that again, this was not her quarry; however, she was a far more dangerous adversary than Miriya had expected to face. Truly a worthy opponent.

It suddenly occurred to Miriya that she might not survive this engagement.

* * *

"Captain Fokker has recovered aboard Daedalus; he's been injured."

"Roy!" Claudia turned to Sammie. "Is he okay?"

"They're not sure yet; he's lost a lot of blood. He's being rushed to surgery."

Claudia forced herself to concentrate on her instruments; she couldn't afford to be distracted right now. "It appears that for some reason, Sergeant Sterling has been singled out by the enemy pilot."

Gloval nodded. "Recall Sterling. If the enemy pursues, we'll route some backup in for him."

"Aye, sir." She gritted her teeth. _Roy'll be okay...he's gotta be!_

* * *

"Fall back?" Max was puzzled.

"The Captain believes that that bandit is trying too hard. He wants you to fall back, so we can figure out what his game is."

Max shrugged. "You got it."

* * *

"**Oh, no you don't.**" Miriya rammed her reactor controls well into the red zone and rocketed after the retreating Microne. Her opponent's mecha was returning to the Protoculture Fortress; Miriya could not allow it to reach its destination. She triggered a second volley of missiles.

Again, the enemy mecha destroyed the volley; apparently, the anti-missile laser on the underside of the reconfigurable mecha could be aimed to the rear. The mecha dropped in towards the Fortress, but rather than entering an airlock, it shifted to its hybrid form and began matter-surfing along the surface.

Miriya checked her radar display; her forces were holding back, as ordered. Curiously, the Micronian mecha were also holding back, as though they too wanted to observe the outcome.

_We are more alike than we thought..._

* * *

Max shifted to Soldier Mode, did a quick snap-turn, and brought the gun-pod up to his shoulder. He haloed the enemy Mecha, and pulled the trigger.

And was rewarded with a flash as the gun jammed.

"Aw, hell." He discarded the gun - it dropped down to the deck, thanks to Macross' internal gravity web - and drew the Zentraedi laser sidearm from the left leg. "At least now I know why Saotome carried this."

The Zentraedi mecha dropped onto the surface, falling into a half crouch. Max centered it in his gunsights, and waited.

* * *

"**What is she waiting for?**"

Miriya considered her opponent. The enemy mecha had been performing with the same dizzying speed she was used to seeing from it, but also showed a crisp, precise, economical nature to its movements. It spoke well of the pilot's talents. But now, the Microne merely waited, a pistol held at arms' length.

Miriya slowly drew her own pistol. Her missiles were expended, and her impact cannons empty, but she still had her pulse lasers and her pistol. She resolved not to use the lasers unless her opponent showed some other weapon in backup.

The Microne snapped into motion, squeezing off several blasts from the pistol. Miriya dodged, relying solely on instinct and her bond with the mecha, and returned fire. The Microne simply ducked around a hull protrusion, and her shots went wide.

She glanced back at her radar; no sign of the Micronian ace. Though most of her teammates were still hovering above. Next, she clicked her communicator, setting it to the Microne frequency.

"Give yourself up; the end will be the same, regardless of what you do."

Her only answer was a burst of laser fire from the Microne; she ducked back under cover to avoid being hit, then put a few blasts of her own into the area from which the laser fire had originated. She waited, but there was no movement, either on visuals or on sensors.

She thought the mecha into a run, slipping from cover to cover. Stopped again, and checked her radar.

She was certain that the enemy mecha did not register on radar as it stepped out and blasted her from behind. Luckily, her suit's armour absorbed the blast, though telltales indicated that it couldn't do it again. She jumped back and whirled about, only to discover that the Microne had again vanished.

"Very tricky, Microne. You won't catch me that way again." She glanced to her left; was that movement? She stepped in that direction, raising her pistol.

"You are good; perhaps even my equal. This is why you must die."

"Sorry, lady. Dyin' ain't on my agenda."

Her eyes widened in shock. "A male!" She began to shake in rage. "Microne! You die now!" She leaped forward, raking the structure ahead with laser fire.

The blast came from the other direction, knocking her mecha away from the Fortress. She glanced quickly down to her engineering panel, and realized that her thrusters were offline. As was her life support systems.

_Defeated! By a Microne! A Micronian male has defeated me!_

* * *

Max watched the crippled enemy mecha float away from the Macross. He shook his head. _What a waste!_

The enemy mecha gathered up their fallen leader, and boosted away from the Fortress. Max tapped his tactical controls. "Macross, this is Vermillion Seven. Enemy forces are in retreat; your path seems to be clear."

"Roger that, Vermillion Seven. Be advised that we will begin planetfall operations in three hours."

* * *

The alien armada fell back as the Macross, escorted by its squadrons of Valkyries, dropped into recovery orbit around the Earth. No further attempt to impede the massive Dimensional Fortress was made, and shortly after entering orbit, the Macross began its slow fall down to the Pacific Ocean.

After more than a year in deep space, being chased by an alien fleet, the Macross had returned home. Eighty thousand people raised their voices in celebration. All but four.

Miriya raged, slamming her fist over and over again into the carapace of her almost completely destroyed Queadlunn-Rau.

Azonia cursed her subordinate's actions; Miriya's disobedience had cost her the opportunity to capture the Fortress.

And Rick Hunter and Claudia Grant wept, mourning the death of Roy Fokker.


	20. 41: Convergence

**CONVERGENCE**

"Enter."

Ryouga Hibiki, Recruit Third Class, stepped into the Commandant's office and saluted. The Commandant glanced up from his notes.

"Ah, Mister Hibiki. I understand that you've requisitioned the fusion engines that came out of the GH-1."

"Yes, sir." The GH-1, or 'Micro-Valk', as his instructor had dubbed it, used engines very similar in size to those from the VF-X-2 Rapier that was his own pet project.

"I'm afraid that I can't release those engines." He sighed. "Doctor Lang has requested that instead, you fit the Rapier with Kustonov engines. After both Saotome and Sterling demonstrated the advanced handling capable with these engines..."

Ryouga nodded. "I understand, sir."

"Oh, and in other good news: The UEG has decided they're going to reinforce our fighter wing. With what, is anyone's guess, since the only fully functional Valkyrie factory was on Macross Island..." He chuckled. "But it'll be good to have some more hardware." He opened a folder and extracted a document. "And good work on that Rapier's electronics." He passed the document across the desk. "Here's your certification. Congratulations."

* * *

The cell door opened.

"Captain Saotome, step forward."

Ranma hopped off of his bunk, stretched, and stepped out of the cell. The fact that he had been called by rank told him that he was already a free man. He glanced at the clock mounted on the wall, just outside the cell. "Hey, five minutes early."

Major Frederick smirked. "Time off for good behaviour."

"I've been a saint."

Frederick chuckled. "That you have. All right, let's get you signed out, then you can get back to your unit."

All of Ranma's good humour drained away in an instant.

* * *

The position of Detailer was, by custom at least, expected to be held by a civilian. It had not actually been true for an awfully long time. Nonetheless, the fiction was maintained. The Macross' Detailer held the rank of Colonel in the Ground Forces, but one was not expected to salute him, or refer to his rank. He was merely "Mister Edwards". But one did not show any disrespect to the Detailer; he could make or break a career with a single word. Plus, he had lost an eye in the service of his country during the Global Civil War, but despite the injury, had remained an active pilot for three more years.

"I'm sorry, Captain Saotome." Edwards shuffled his forms. "I have no record of any posting listed for you."

Ranma scowled. "That can't be right. I was told by Commander Hayes to expect a posting as soon as I was sprung. In fact, she told me to bank on having a command again."

Edwards sighed. "Perhaps you should take it up with Commander Hayes, then." He pulled another form. "If you want, I can find a posting for you. Always room for more in Skull--you've flown with them before, right? Vermillion has been disbanded, so they're not an issue. Blue--"

Ranma raised a hand. "Whoa...jet back. Vermillion was disbanded? Why?"

"Aaah, they ran into some powered armour, got chewed up pretty bad. So did Blue, for that matter." He reached across his desk and pulled up another form. "Yeah, the command elements of Blue came through all right; they lost six files, though, so they're clamouring for replacements. Vermillion, though...only three of that outfit survived, and all three were transferred to Skull. In fact, Vermillion's CO was put in charge of Skull."

"Huh?" Ranma was getting more confused by the minute. He was about to enquire further, but Edwards' phone chose that moment to ring.

"Hold on one..." He picked up the phone. "Detailer. Yeah, he's here. Okay." He hung up the phone, and looked up at Ranma. "That was Commander Hayes. You're to report to her immediately."

"Before I--"

Edwards scowled. "'Immediately' means now, quickly, on the bounce, move it, why are you still here?"

Ranma clamped his mouth shut, turned, and left.

Commander Hayes was extremely busy when Ranma reached the bridge.

"Stupid political meetings." She grabbed a file folder, examined the contents quickly, and dropped it in her briefcase.

Ranma cleared his throat. "Reporting as ordered, ma'am."

"Captain. Excellent." She didn't slow down, just tossed a folder his way. "Details on your new command. Study it. I had something slightly different in mind, but Lang overruled me."

"Lang, eh?" Ranma flipped open the file folder. "Since when can he overrule the first officer?"

"Since he has the Captain's ear, and rarely uses it without good reason." She snapped her briefcase shut. "This job he's given you isn't unreasonable; just unusual. Personally, I wanted to give you Skull, but--"

"Yeah, what's up with that?"

The door to the bridge snapped open, and Captain Global stepped in. "Lisa, are you ready to leave?"

"Yes, Captain." She grabbed the briefcase.

"Good. The Tunny's prepping, and we're already behind schedule. Let's move."

"Yes, sir." And without another word to Ranma, she turned and hurried from the bridge.

Ranma glanced around the bridge, but it was deserted except for a rated tech. He shrugged, and left.

* * *

Five minutes later, he was in Skull's ready room. It was also mostly deserted; two pilots that he didn't recognize were playing gin rummy at one of the tables.

"Hey. Where's Roy?"

One of the pilots glanced up at him. "Roy who?"

Ranma frowned. "You know. Tall guy, blond hair, your CO?"

The fighter pilot stood, and faced Ranma directly. "I don't know who you're talking about, Captain. My CO is Rick Hunter."

Ranma felt a cold ball of ice forming in the pit of his stomach. The pilot's chicken guts held a ten-mission ribbon and an Ace's ribbon; he'd been in Skull for a while, was an experienced combat pilot.

The young men - and now women - who served in deep-space combat knew that it was a very deadly game. In all likelihood, enlisting in U. N. Spacy was as good as committing suicide. No pilot needed that kind of reminder. And when a combat pilot falls in battle, especially a leader, and most especially a well-liked leader like Roy, the pilots could not afford to let their emotions affect their flying.

Therefore, the pilot in question simply never existed. An inexperienced pilot might have made the mistake; an Ace would not.

Ranma sighed heavily. "Sorry...Musta been confused."

The other pilot, still seated at the card table, nodded. "Yeah. That can happen."

The Ace glanced down at the folder in Ranma's hands. "Not on duty?"

"No."

"Neither are we." He walked over to the ready room's bar fridge, and pulled out three beers. "Have a cold one with us?"

"Sure." Ranma popped the cap on the beer and raised it to his lips, but the Ace touched his arm.

"Not yet, mate." He uncapped his own beer. "Gotta have a toast first, right?"

"Yeah. Sure."

The Ace raised the bottle. "To fallen comrades."

* * *

For over three thousand years, the Zentraedi had practised the art of war. They had learned thousands of tactics, strategies, the use of almost every form of weapon, psychological warfare, space warfare, naval warfare. They had learned mechanized combat, infantry tactics, dash-and-cover, supporting fire and bombardment. They had refined the ritual of the duel, the code of the warrior, and the art of mecha combat.

One thing that they had never touched on, however, was espionage.

Rico, Bron, and Konda were among the brightest and best of the Zentraedi warrior caste. They had been entrusted with the operation of complex recon electronics, and were formidable warriors in their own right. However, that still wasn't saying very much. They had found themselves considerably out of their element aboard the Protoculture Fortress. The Micrones seemed to exist in a constant state of chaos. Amazingly, they had managed to avoid being uncovered. After puzzling out the Micronian requisition and billeting system, they had found themselves put to work at reconstruction. It was a new and interesting challenge to them; rather than destroy, they created. And like the other construction workers, they quickly began to appreciate a hot meal and a cold beer at the end of the day.

"My feet are killing me." Rico dropped into a chair. The Nekohanten had become their favourite restaurant; after the blandness of Zentraedi rations, the spicy Micronian 'ramen' was a treat for the taste buds.

"Yeah, it was definitely a hard day." Konda had removed his boots, much to the disgust of his companions, and was massaging his feet. "But I think it was worth it. We only made one mistake today."

"Yeah. For us, that's a record." Bron was the largest of the three, standing six foot and bulking huge; he could barely fit his knees under the table.

"Welcome to Nekohanten!" The waitress bounced over to the three companions. "You want usual?"

"Yeah." Rico proudly dropped several bills on the table. "And I'm payin' for all of us."

"Hey, that's not fair, Rico." Konda scowled at his one-time superior officer. "You have to let us perform our duty."

"Don't worry. You can get the next one."

Shan Pu shook her head in bemusement. Even for foreigners, these three were odd. She dashed off to the kitchen to fetch three extra-spicy super-deluxe ramen, with extra everything.

The bell over the door rang, and a uniformed Microne stepped in. The spies had managed to learn that only some Micrones were warriors; those who wore one of some forty different uniforms. This man wore a uniform of a type they didn't recognize, one that seemed to be a variant of a pilot's off-duty uniform. Bron was the only one of the three that could decipher the combinations of badges that marked rank and position; his eyes swept over the Microne and took in his gold bars, wings and stars.

"Good afternoon, Captain." Bron waved him over. "Join us, will you?"

Konda leaned over, scowling. "Are you nuts?"

"Don't worry," whispered Bron. Louder, to the Captain, he said, "Can I buy you a beer?"

"No thanks." The Captain sat down. "Though some tea would be great."

"Not a problem." Bron leaned back, and glanced around for the waitress. "It might take a bit of time--"

The Microne shrugged. "I'm not in a hurry."

"Okay, then." He looked back at the pilot. "Just in from a mission?"

"No, actually." The Microne laughed. "Just got out of barbwire city."

"There's another city on board?" Rico looked surprised. He'd been rather stunned to learn that there was even once city within the Fortress; by Zentraedi standards, the Protoculture ship was quite small.

The Microne shook his head. "No. The stockade. Y'know...military jail."

"Ah." Not that Rico was any less confused, but...

"Just got my orders, for my new squadron."

Bron nodded. "As a Captain, and an Ace, you rate your own command group, correct?"

"Essentially, though there are other factors." He looked Bron up and down. "Y'know, you should consider joining up. Bet they could put you to use among the ground pounders."

All three of the micronized Zentran looked at Ranma blankly for a second, then burst out laughing.

Ranma was rather disconcerted. "What?"

"Oh, we couldn't join the--" Rico paused. They had not actually learned the word for the Micronian Armed Forces.

Bron butted in. "They wouldn't take us."

"Why not?"

Bron considered some of the things the construction crew chiefs had said of them. "Something about being a flat-footed, knuckle-dragging, slope-headed lice-infested excuse for an illegitimate son of a syphilitic jackal and a dyslexic orangutang. Or something to that effect."

Ranma shrugged. "Sounds like you'd fit right into Fourth Cav."

SHan Pu chose that moment to arrive with three bowls of soup. "Here is too-too-delicious bowls of--Airen! You come take Shan Pu on date, is okay?"

Ranma groaned. "Forget it, Shampoo. I want nothin' to do with ya, okay?"

Shan Pu set the bowls on the table and launched herself into a full Amazon Glomp (tm). "You no want to refuse Amazon woman. Is very bad thing. We go on date now!"

"I ain't interested in--"

"Male who defeat Amazon woman is good catch!"

"Forget it!" Ranma jumped up, grabbed his docket, and ran from the restaurant, purple-haired Amazon in pursuit.

* * *

"Well, whatever this 'date' thing is, it is obviously of great import to Micrones."

The threesome, having consumed their ramen, had retired to their single-room apartment and were rehashing their experience in the restaurant.

"So we're almost certain that she is in fact a Meltran." Rico tipped back his beer.

Bron nodded. "Yeah, it makes sense. She attacked the Captain for no reason I can discern, and she often assaults other males. She is extremely skilled in battle. Her hair is naturally purple - even down to the roots, so we know it's not an artificial colour. And purple is not a normal hair colour for Micrones."

Rico set down his beer and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "That Captain called her an 'Amazon'. I looked it up, in the book of words, and it means a female warrior."

"But if she is a Meltran, why is she here? And why is she Micronized?"

"I dunno. Maybe she's like us. Y'know...spies."

Bron considered this, then shook his head. "Naw. Couldn't be. I mean...us Zentraedi _invented_ espionage." He avoided mentioning that they had invented it only very recently.

Konda spoke up. "You guys have forgotten the other possibility."

"What's that?"

He leaned forward. "What if she was captured?"

"Capture a Meltran?" Rico snickered. "Even if it were possible, why has she not escaped? Surely even a single Meltran should be able to mow her way through mere Micrones."

"She might be brainwashed."

Bron grinned. "A very good point. And since we're to be extracted by Azonia..."

"We must capture this poor creature, and return her to her proper home." Rico snickered again. "Or use her for a bargaining chip."

Konda shook his head. "And how exactly are we to capture a Meltran warrior?"

The threesome fell silent. For the sad fact was that, every time they had faced off with Meltraedi in the past, they had lost.

* * *

Captain Saotome surveyed the faces of his new command.

Fending off Shampoo had taken quite a lot of time; he had had little time to go over his docket, so he had covered the mission details, and left personnell till later. Some of the faces in the wardroom he recognized; Amy Clark and Kosuji Minako, former Angels - Fallen Angels, in the current Macross slang. Janos Hendrikksen, a former Destroid pilot, cross-trained as a Falcon jock, and now here to learn how to fly the Valkyrie. And Abraham Goldstein, a former member of Green Squadron, which Ranma had flown with as XO.

The other faces were all new. Three of them were Firefly graduates, posted directly here; most of the rest came from Aces High, Diamondbacks and Mad Hatters, the male training squadrons. One was a former Skull, orphaned from his unit two months ago and left in the lurch by an overworked Detailer.

"Good morning." Ranma leaned on his desk. "Welcome to the first day of your new squadron. My name is Saotome Ranma. Some of you may know me as Saotome Ranko." He grinned. "As per usual, Commander Hayes has handed me a wierd one. An unusual assignment, that is. But I think we're all really gonna enjoy this one.

"Chief Science Officer Lang is of the opinion, and Commander Hayes agrees with him, that the traditional uniformity of a mission unit is a bad plan. He has pointed out that of all the successful missions we've pulled off against the Zentraedi, every last one was pulled off by a unit with a broad mix of mecha. The Ferryboat Assault was a combination of Destroids, everything but a Heavy Howard going ashore, with Valkyries for backup. The Mars attack was made up of several makes and models of Valkyries, including a heavily modified S-type and a few augmentation packages." He controlled his features; Angel had gotten chewed up that mission. "And the force that successfully infiltrated a Zentraedi battle cruiser, and came back with important data on the enemy, was composed of two A-type Valkyries, a J-type with Stinger augmentation, and a single leg-trooper.

"Therefore, it has been decided by Dr. Lang to form a unit of irregulars. We currently have four Mecha assigned, and have been promised at least another twenty. And not one of the four we have now are standard Valkyries."

One of the Diamondback grads leaned forward. "So what mecha do we have?"

Ranma picked up the remote and clicked a button. The lights dimmed slightly, and the picture screen behind him lit up.

"First, we have a modified S-type, which has the engines replaced with Kustonov reactors. This was my personal bird, and I sweated every time I got in the damn thing. Kept expecting it to fly to bits on me." There was a chorus of chuckles around the room. Ranma grinned, and clicked a different button.

"This thing was dreamed up by a tech, and Jaime Wolff's people swear by it. Some geek got the idea of removing the gun arms from a Defender, and replacing them with a Spartan's Crow hands. The whole thing is lighter and faster than even an unmodified Defender - traditionally the fastest of the Destroids. But it has only a pair of TZ-IV gun clusters in the upper shoulders, plus a single gun pod."

Click. "This was supposed to be the second-generation Valkyrie, but the whole project got waylaid. They call it a Rapier; it's essentially a high-maneuverability version of the Valkyrie, and has the same Kustonov piles as the Super."

Click. "And this..." He grinned. "We managed to damage and recover a Zentraedi officer's combat pod. Intel tells us that the Zentraedi call it a ´Glaug'.I guess someone figured it could be up-armoured and fitted with a standard Destroid cockpit. It's surprisingly fast and tough, about on par with a Gerwalk-mode Valkyrie, but with better armaments all around. We're calling it an Invader."

"So if we only have four Mecha, what are the rest of us gonna use for rides?"

"For the moment, unassigned Mecha from the motor pool." Click. The lights came back up. "Plus, the Kami alone know what else Command is gonna think to send our way. I'm gonna insist that we get issued at least six regular Valkyries, preferably A-, J- and G-types."

The ex-Skull pilot stood. "Sir...how official is this unit?"

Ranma shrugged. "That's gonna depend on the brass. For the most part, I intend to run this as any other unit. We will have a name. We will have a unit flash. And we damn well will have a solid chain of command."

"Good enough for me. And the name of this unit?"

Ranma paused. None had been given in his orders. "I'm open to suggestions."

Five minutes later, the room had unanimously agreed upon, "Saotome's Irregulars."

* * *

Miriya watched her entry pod dissolve down into so much slag. Its scuttling devices left absolutely nothing identifiable behind. Her insertion had been carried out by a single Queadlunn-Rau, modified for stealth and recon jobs, and had not been noticed by the Micrones at all. And unlike the other three 'spies', she was dressed in Micronian clothing, patterned after those worn by Saotome Ranko, the female Microne pilot she had bested twice before. The clothing had been made based on intercepted Microne message traffic. Miriya found the gi to be comfortable, practical, and very easy to move in.

She smirked. Perhaps wearing this would draw Saotome into a confrontation, so she could finish her off. But Saotome was only her secondary goal.

Before anything else, Miriya pledged to herself that she would find and execute the Micronian male who had humiliated her.


	21. 42: Paths

**PATHS**

The newly renamed Invader roared along the surface of the Pacific. Its IFF was constantly broadcasting a Medevac signal, which was not at all true, but definitely would keep people from firing on what looked like an enemy Mecha. As Ranma watched, it wheeled about, and opened fire on a set of target rafts. He winced; the pilot had unleashed a devastating salvo, firing all three particle cannons, the autocannons, missiles, lasers, even the tiny machine guns in the nose, but three of the targets remained unscathed. Not at all surprising, though; nobody on Earth had any training in this model of Mecha.

A second pass finished off the targets, and the Mecha wheeled about and came to rest on the deck of the Daedalus. The machine knelt, the cockpit popped open, and Janos Hendrikksen hopped out.

Ranma walked up to him. "So, whaddaya think of it, Janos?"

The former Destroid pilot shrugged. "The cockpit is same as the Tomahawk. Makes it easy to use, you know, with the gun arrangement being similar. But not the same, you bet." He shrugged again. "I like it, but I came here to learn to fly Valkyries."

Ranma nodded. "I hear you." He considered for a moment, then jerked a thumb towards the fighter bay. "You want Valkyries, you got Valkyries. You can take the B-type. This will increase your work load. I hope you're up to it."

Hendrikksen looked up at the B. "Command unit, eh?"

"Yeah, but the Jaybird does better at it."

"Not a problem." He grinned. "But a B can command a Flight, is true?"

"Second is yours if you want it. I'm giving Michaels command of Third."

"I think he would do well there, or as your XO."

Ranma shook his head. "I don't know him well enough to make him XO. In fact, other than you, I only really know Goldstein, Clark, Kosuji and Green."

"May I make a humble suggestion?"

"Sure."

"Make Clark your XO."

Ranma frowned. "She's shown no leadership qualities to date."

"True. But she started out in U. N. Spacy Communications. Got bored with it and drifted over to Destroid Maintenance. Got bored with that, went to powerplants. Then, when Angel opened up, jumped at the chance." Hendrikksen pulled out a package of cigarettes and lit one up, in flagrant violation of deck protocol. "The girl is intelligent, has a diverse background, and needs a challenge. It's what makes her tick." He leaned closer to Ranma. "Plus, I think she maybe is hot for you, Captain."

"That's the last thing I need." He looked out over the water, where Clark was now taking her turn in the Valkyrie-S. "I'll consider it, Janos. Hell, let's give her the position, see what she does with it."

Hendrikksen laughed, and slugged Ranma in the arm. "You will see, old Janos is right."

A warning klaxon started up; Ranma glanced up to the status board. "Hey, we got some incoming traps."

Hendrikksen looked over to the Invader. "I'm on an elevator; if they hit me, it's their fault."

Ranma nodded. "Wonder why they're landing here?" It was more traditional to land aircraft on the Prometheus, as it was a dedicated aircraft carrier, rather than on the Daedalus. He glanced over at the Prometheus, but other than a Raptor recon fan jet just now lining up for a trap, there was nothing in the pattern.

The term 'trap' was somewhat antiquated; it referred to the act of catching an arrestor cable with a tail hook. As Ranma watched, the incoming fighter merely reconfigured to Gerwalk, and slid down onto the deck. A quick snap-turn by the pilot brought the bird around, and left it standing on an elevator.

Ranma stared at the jet in disbelief. "That's a Rapier!"

"A what?"

"One of the new generation variable fighters."

Janos scratched his head. "I thought Earth wasn't going to give us any more variable fighters?"

"They weren't." Ranma scowled. "I wonder why they sent us these?"

* * *

"Because they suck."

Ranma snorted. "Come on, how bad can they be?"

"Trust me. They're quite poor." Jameson kicked his feet up onto his desk. "First off: They don't have the funky Zortrium armour that the Valks do."

"That's easy enough to fix."

"Sure, but it's gonna take a while. Can't exactly snap your fingers and produce Zortrium. Second: They don't have fusion engines."

"No way."

"Atmospheric systems only. Useless in vacuum."

Ranma sighed. "Yeah, and we've got a serious shortage of fusion engines."

"Third: No Reflex energy system."

Ranma looked disgusted. "They aren't even Mecha."

"Yeah, but that's probably easiest to fix. Truth is, you just gotta toss a Reflex battery in the ship somewhere, and it'll work. Don't even need to wire it up."

"I don't get it."

"Okay." Jameson pulled open a desk drawer - an interesting maneuver, since he did it without taking his feet off the desk - and pulled out a small cylinder. It was an inch across by four long, and was dull grey, save for four small silver terminals. He tossed it across the desk. "Here, catch."

Ranma reached out and grabbed the cell.

_It is a sadness--_

_--to think that the one--_

_--two in one, and mutable--_

_--you choose not to be._

He dropped it like it was a live wire, and stared at it in shock.

Jameson was nodding. "It can be kinda unnerving--"

"Unnerving, hell."

"Hm?"

Ranma pointed at the cell. "I caught it, and I heard voices."

"Voices?" Jameson glanced down at the cell.

"Yeah. Seemed kinda familiar."

"Most people feel like they're holding onto something living. But I've never heard of the cell talking to them."

"It wasn't talking to me...It was more like, someone was talking, and I could hear them. Through the cell." "Hm." Jameson considered the cell. "Maybe you should talk to Lang."

"No thank you."

"Well." He picked up the cell. "I can tell you a little more about Reflex. For one, we once popped open one of these babies. Found a plant matter of some sort inside. It decayed far too rapidly for us to get a sample."

"A flower, right? Sorta pink?"

"No." Jameson looked confused. "Just some brown goop." He looked down at the cell again. "The term 'Reflex' is just a contraction of 'reality flux'. It's what allows the Mecha to act alive, and allows the ship's space-fold generators to work. And it tends to make any machinery within its Reflex power radius act more alive."

Ranma nodded. "I get it." He indicated the cell. "Can I hang onto that one?"

"Eh? Sure." Jameson set it down on the desk. "Just don't try to open it."

"No problem." Ranma picked up the cell, and stuffed it quickly into a pocket. "Just wanna study it, on my own time."

"No problem. We still don't understand Reflex batteries." He grinned. "Lang managed to decipher one other word, from this ship's memory banks. It relates somehow to the Reflex energy, though we don't know how."

"What's that?"

"Protoculture."

* * *

It had taken almost five days for the party to wind down. People were no longer dancing in the streets of the city, but the festive air had not entirely left the ship. So it was that, when Ranma entered the White Dragon, he found it packed.

In one corner, at the Skull's usual table, Rick Hunter sat with two of his underlings. One of them was Ben Dixon, an old friend of Ranma's from OCS. Ben had been two years behind Ranma in the flight training program, but due to a lack of housing, the two had been assigned the same quarters. The other one, Ranma didn't recognize, a short, skinny fellow. His hair was dyed a bright blue, and he wore large corrective glasses. That in itself was unusual; even with all the modern sensors that a Valkyrie boasted, there was still no replacement for a Mark-1 Eyeball, and under normal circumstances, this guy would never have been considered for a fighter pilot. The fact that he was not only a pilot, but a decorated one--Ranma spotted, among his chicken guts, a Medal of Valour and an Ace's Ribbon--spoke an awful lot for his piloting skills.

In another corner of the room, Ranma could see Lisa Hayes, apparently back from whatever mission had taken her off of the ship. With her were the infamous "Terrible Trio", Sammie Porter, Kim Young and Vanessa Leeds. In the center of the room, surrounded by fans, was Lynn Minmei.

Ranma was of two minds when it came to Minmei. On the one hand, Minmei had been a fairly good friend of his. They'd had some good yaks, discussing his ambitions and her dreams. He was genuinely pleased that her own dreams, for a singing career, had come true. Granted, her music wasn't really his style--he preferred traditional pieces--but he could tell that she was talented, and truly loved her work.

On the other hand, ever since she had won the talent contest, and as her fame aboard the ship rose, she had become more and more distant towards everyone. It had been months since Ranma had seen her last, and she had barely remembered who he was. Now, her glance slid right over him as he walked in.

Oh, well. Perhaps, eventually, she'd remember how she came up. Until then, he mentally wished her well, and walked over to the Skull's table.

Rick glanced up as he approached. "Hi, Captain. Join us?"

Ranma grinned. "I dunno...this table's for the Skull Squadron, right?"

"You're still a Skull, Ranma."

Ranma shook his head. "No, I'm not. I'm a Fallen Angel." He sat. "But I'll accept an invitation to sit with the Skull."

Rick looked down. "I'm really sorry what happened to your command, Ranma. Less than six months commissioned, and they struck the colours."

"Aah, don't worry, Hunter. Word is, they're gonna reactivate it, with a new commander and new girls. After all, there's almost thirty in the Academy now."

Rick snorted. "They'll probably get that fiancee of yours to command it. Lieutenant Tendo." He slid a cup of tea across the table.

"Maybe."

For some reason, Ben seemed somewhat nervous. "How's your new command coming along, Ranma?"

"Not too bad." Ranma picked up his tea and sipped it before continuing. "I wish they'd give us more machines. Until they fill our ranks, we don't have enough rides to go around."

Rick looked up. "What do you have?"

"A B-type, four Jaybirds, an A-type, my modified Super, a Destroid, a Rapier and a captured Zentraedi thingy."

Rick blinked. He opened his mouth to comment, but was cut off by the television suddenly switching on.

Ranma turned and looked up at the screen. The TV sets in the city were wired for global remote control, and the only times they were activated like this was if there was some official statement coming from the Command Staff. Others had noticed, and a hush quickly fell over the restaurant.

The face on the screen was that of Captain Henry Gloval.

"May I have your attention please." Gloval glanced down at his notes, shuffled the papers, then discarded them. He looked back up at the camera.

"As of yesterday, at fifteen hundred hours ship-time, I have been ordered to launch the SDF-1 Macross and leave this planet.

"My orders are to attempt to lead the Zentraedi forces around the planet away from Earth, damaging or destroying as many of them as possible.

"I have also been ordered not to allow any person to disembark from this ship."

Mutters could be heard in the restaurant. Ranma glanced around; the room was turning ugly. No surprise; the orders that Gloval had been given might as well have been a suicide mission. And for this crowd, most of whom had expected to return to their families and loved ones, it was a particularly bitter pill to swallow.

Gloval continued his speech. "I immediately appealed the last order. Certainly, the mission of this ship is to defend Earth against alien invasion. But none of you have volunteered for this mission. Because of a tragic accident, you have been thrust into this against your will.

"Accordingly, I have begun requesting, of each individual regional government, permission to disembark the civilian population. Hopefully, very soon you will be able to go home.

"Thank you."

The screen faded to black, but the noise level in the room continued to rise. One fellow, dressed in a green sweater, was particularly vocal.

"I knew it! I knew that the military wasn't gonna let us go! We know too much!"

Ben scowled, and stood up. "Look, pal. Weren't you listening to the Captain? He said he was tryin' to get you home."

"Yeah, right!" The man in the green sweater shook his fist. "More likely it was his idea to keep us here." He glanced around the room. "There's the first officer. Let's get some answers out of her!"

All of a sudden, Max Sterling had a hand at his elbow. Ranma blinked; he'd barely seen the little guy move.

"Excuse me, sir." Max adjusted his glasses, looking self-conscious. "Perhaps you should--"

He didn't get the chance to finish; the rabble-rouser threw a wide punch at his head. Max ducked the punch by mere millimeters, and twisted the man's arm. The bigger man was flipped end-for-end, and landed undignified on his rump.

"Oh, I'm sorry about that, sir."

The rabble-rouser jumped to his feet, and began rolling up his sleeves. "You were just lucky, punk. Let's see you do that again!"

Max obliged him. This time, Ranma got to see exactly how the leverage was applied. _Must remember that move._

The rabble-rouser stood up again, more slowly this time, and rubbed his arm. "Tough guy, eh?"

Max merely smiled.

The big man grinned back. "Let's get 'em!"

Six more toughs burst forward and attacked the Skull. The green-sweatered fellow launched himself back at Max. Ranma shook his head in disgust; the lummox didn't know when he was outclassed.

Rick and Ben snapped into action. Both had been through ROTP, which included hand-to-hand lessons. Rick had studied shotokan, and was throwing quick punches and kicks that left combatant after combatant lying on the floor, clutching limbs and stomachs. Ben's style mixed a bit of _savate_, a bit of judo, and a bit of WWF pro wrestling. His opponents flew far and wide. But the two were outnumbered.

Max was doing somewhat poorly. Someone had tagged him from the side, and he was obviously dizzy. The green-sweatered fellow was taking advantage of the fact, and was pressing him hard. Ranma decided that enough was enough; he set down his tea, stood up, and threw himself into a spin kick. His foot connected with the rabble-rouser's head, throwing him across the room. Ranma realized with a start that the rabble rouser was about to impact a civilian--

But the civilian merely sidestepped the flying body, and with a quick downward snap of one fist, slammed him into the ground.

Ranma blinked; the civilian, whoever he was, was very economical in his movements, very precise. And his style signature was clearly Anything Goes.

Max shook his head. "Thanks, Ranma." He glanced over at his teammates. "We'd better help out Rick and Max."

"Yeah, sure." Ranma glanced back at the civvy. "Who's he?"

"Hm? Oh, some relative of Minmei's. C'mon."

And it was back into the fray. But with four trained fighters against half a dozen brawlers, it was a short fray. When it was over, Ranma turned back to watch the newcomer.

Whoever he was, he'd managed to draw a lot of attention. Some fifteen goons were all over him. And as Ranma watched, he simply tossed them halfway over the horizon. A quick punch here, a wrist-lock there, all calculated to throw his opponents as far as possible. His style wasn't nearly as aerial as Ranma's, and he hadn't kicked at all yet. It was like he'd chosen the two-meter wide zone around him as his battlefield, and would not abandon it.

But for all the differences, it was still Anything Goes. _Maybe a sister branch of the school...have to ask Pop about that._

Eventually, the weaker fighters had dropped out, leaving five skilled opponents. They pressed him harder than before, acting in co-ordination. And now he started kicking, the same high-angle and wide-sweep kicks that Ranma used. And with the same effect. Very quickly, he dispatched the last five.

Ranma distinctly heard the snap of bone as the man kicked the last in the side, leaving him face down on the white tiles.

The man straightened, and adjusted his shirt. "Terrible."

Ranma walked forward cautiously. "Whaddaya mean?"

The stranger looked up at him. "This violence...it has unsettled me."

"Yeah, it can do that." Ranma tilted his head. "You sure fight good."

"I'm not proud of it." The young man looked around. "I had to defend myself. But I hate violence."

Ranma raised his eyebrows. _Is this guy for real?_ He glanced over at Max, but the blue-haired pilot merely shrugged. Ranma turned back to the stranger. "Hey, I hate it too, but these guys brought it on themselves, right?"

Minmei walked up to the stranger. "Are you all right, Kyle?"

"Yeah...they weren't very good." He rubbed his side. "One got a hit in on me, though."

Ben spoke up. "Hey, if you need a hand--"

Minmei waved him away. "No, Kyle doesn't like the army. Come on...let's go."

She led the young man out of the restaurant.

Max shrugged again. "I don't get it."

"Yeah." Ranma rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "He fights like a demon, but complains that it disturbs his peace. He says he doesn't like fighting, but he's a great martial artist. Not as good as me...but close."

Rick frowned. "I don't like him, either." He glanced over at Ranma.

"Something's bugging you, Ranma?"

"Yeah. That Kyle guy...he practises Anything Goes." Ranma scowled. "As far as I knew, only two families practise that style. Mine and Akane's." He turned and walked towards the door. "I gotta go see Pop."

* * *

From across the room, Lisa Hayes had watched the battle, and the parley between Ranma and Lin Kyle.

_He's a phenomenal fighter, but dislikes violence. Like Karl. He's willing to fight to defend himself, or others. Like Karl. Hell, he even looks like Karl._

Sammie poked her in the side. "Hey, boss. You in there?"

_But he's obviously taken. There's no way I could win him. Not away from her._

"Hello! Earth to Lisa!"

Lisa blinked. "What is it, Sammie?"

"We'd better get back to the bridge. We're gonna have a huge write-up to do over this."

"Yes, that's a good idea..." Lisa's eyes drifted back over the crowd, but he was gone.

_Karl is dead...I've admitted that. I have to get on with my life. But is this the right path? And why have I not considered it before now?_


	22. 43: Data

**DATA**

Ranma pounded on the front door of the small house. "Come on, Pop. I know you're in there!"

No answer. Ranma scowled at the door.

"Pop! I heard ya snorin'. I know you're there. Open the damned door!"

No answer. Ranma fumed.

"Hi, Kasumi! I see you brought some of that tako sushi--"

The door flew open, and Genma charged out, looking around expectantly. It took almost thirty seconds for him to realize that he'd been had.

Ranma smirked. "About time you opened up. I got some questions for ya."

Genma shook his head. "I don't have time to deal with you." He was still craning his neck and looking around, as though expecting to spot tako sushi.

"Make the time." Ranma frowned. "I just ran into a guy that practices Anything Goes."

"What?" Genma turned his full attention to his son. "Are you certain of that?"

"Why don't we step inside, and I'll tell ya?"

Genma sighed. "Very well. Come in." He raised a finger. "But I don't have a lot of time."

"Sure. That's why you were fast asleep when I got here."

* * *

"What was the boy's name again?"

Ranma stared down at his as-yet untouched tea. "Lin Kyle."

Genma rubbed his chin. "Hmmm...the name seems familiar."

Ranma snickered. "It should. I've been talking about him for the last ten minutes."

"No...Not Kyle. Lin." He sighed. "I remember a boy, named Lin, who came to train under the Master."

"Which Master?"

"The one who trained Tendo and I."

Ranma scoffed. "Lin Kyle is maybe a year or so younger than me. No way it could have been him!"

"Foolish boy! I've already said it wasn't Lin Kyle. I believe the boy's name was Lin Max."

Ranma rolled his eyes. "Lin Max is a fat little guy who has trouble lifting a frying pan."

"Exactly. And when the Master's...training regimen...proved to be too much for him, he quit." Genma shrugged. "I always wondered about that. The Master had a fairly firm rule about quitting."

"Whaddaya mean?"

"Well...The Master was somewhat perverse." Genma grinned at some memory. "For example, one other student that tried to quit was required to bring the Master every article of...clothing...from a nearby religious institution."

"What's so perverse about that?"

Genma's grin widened. "Including the clothing that the nuns were wearing."

Ranma's eyes widened. "Oh!"

"But Lin Max...Well, he just let him go." Genma shrugged. "It doesn't make sense."

* * *

"All right. That concludes our briefing on the Zentraedi Officer's Battle Pod."

Ranma had been a bit bored; after all, most of the data on the Officer's Pod had been gathered by his own squadron. But the next item on the agenda was of great interest to him.

"Next up: The VF-2A Rapier Variable Fighter." Lieutenant whoever-it-was - Ranma sucked at remembering names - was small and dark, and rather broad. He tapped the remote in his hand, and a technical layout drawing of the Rapier appeared on the screen.

"These fighters were transferred to our ship, ostensibly to reinforce our Variable Fighter strength." He tapped the remote again, and the screen now showed one of the fighters in flight. "Unfortunately, the six of these that we received are, at best, woefully under-equipped."

Ranma grimaced. "No kiddin'."

Click. And the screen now showed a Rapier, torn down to the frame. "Luckily for us, we have a tech aboard who's a bit of a maverick. He tore down a Rapier that we happened to have aboard, and spent about a month rebuilding it. Among other things, it carries J-Type avionics, a more advanced battle computer, a new class of gun pod, and two Kustonov Heat-Pile Engines. So these six new fighters are being torn down as well, and upgraded to the same standard as the prototype."

"One moment, please." Ranma scowled; he'd had a history with the Heat-Pile engines. "Why exactly are we puttin' these engines in these fighters? I mean, the Rapier already ain't exactly the fastest fighter in our inventory. Why are we cripplin' 'em even more?"

The Lieutenant turned towards Ranma. "The Rapier's emphasis has been on its nimbleness. The Heat-Piles augment this capability. Plus, with our current shortage of fusion engines, it made more sense to explore other options." He adjusted his glasses. "The prototype has already been assigned to Saotome's Irregulars, and the other six will be as well."

"Why us?"

"The original intent behind your squadron was threefold. First, the mixed-platform concept, giving your team a wide variety of Mecha and missions. Second, your team was meant to serve as a test-flight squadron for any new designs."

"That wasn't in my brief."

Doctor Lang spoke up. "Until we captured that Officer's Battle Pod, it wasn't really considered."

Ranma nodded. "Fine. And the third part?"

The Lieutenant had the good grace to look at least a bit embarrassed. "Well...to give us a place to put all the screwed-up Mecha."

Ranma snorted. "Figures."

"At any rate...these seven fighters will be assigned to the Irregulars, as will their technician. Three more techs are being reassigned to the Irregulars as well."

Commander Hayes spoke up. "Captain Saotome, this brings your TO&E to sixteen Mecha; this is more than enough for you to field two flights in combat. Therefore, you'll be put back onto the duty roster. See what you can dig up from Supply, and try to get up to twenty as soon as possible."

"No problem, Commander."

The Lieutenant returned to his briefing. "The Rapier carries a pair of ROV-type lasers on the head, two high-powered lasers, and four Scorpion missiles, two on each side. Two hard points exist, one under each wing, rated to twenty-six hundred pounds each."

"That's rather light."

"Well, yes, it is." Click. And now the screen showed a concept drawing, of a rather different ship. "This was the original plan, to produce a light dogfighter with two built-in cannons. Note that where they're placed, they interfere pretty badly with the reconfiguration gear. The technology wasn't up to the challenge. As a stopgap, the two particle cannons were mounted in gun-pods, and suspended from underwing pylons.

"We don't have any of the cannons meant for this model, so the tech who rebuilt the ship gave it standard pylons. You can lift two Jackhammer missiles, four Javelin missiles, or two packs of five Coral Snake missiles. You can also carry the standard bombs, up to the Mark-84, rocket packs, or extra gun pods. But the weapons must be expended or jettisoned before reconfiguring to Soldier mode."

Ranma nodded. "You mentioned a new gun pod?"

"Yes. The Rapier is too small to carry the GU-11 or GU-12. Hibiki dug around in supply, until he found one of the old GA-33 cannons from the LVT Adventurer II. Since we can't use those aircraft in space, he requisitioned the cannon, and had it mounted in a custom-built gun pod. We've designated it the GU-10. It's a six-barrell, twenty-millimeter cannon capable of six thousand rounds per minute. Standard payload in the GU-10 is nine hundred rounds per clip of ammunition. The gun can be set for quarter- or half-second bursts, or for full automatic fire."

"Not bad."

The Lieutenant grinned. "It's probably more than enough to wreck conventional battle pods, and might even do the trick on an Officer's Pod, if you hose it down real good. But don't expect it to do jack against a Female Battlesuit."

"That concludes today's Science and Technology briefing." Dr. Lang stood. "Dismissed."

* * *

It was, of course, impossible for Miriya to directly seek her foe. An officer who wished to live beyond the moment would not walk up to a Microne on the street and say, "Excuse me. I am a Meltraedi spy, and I am looking for your greatest pilot so that I may assassinate him."

For that matter, even requesting the name of the greatest pilot aboard would be likely to draw attention. No, the best way of smoking out her game was to be patient. Certainly, a pilot of that calibre would be spoken of rather frequently. All she had to do was wait.

For the moment, however, she had to eat. She had quickly figured out the Microne labour-based requisitioning procedure, and had secured lodgings, food vouchers, and a few changes of clothing. She had noticed, almost immediately after her arrival, that nobody in this insane society dressed the way Saotome apparently did. But at least nobody stared. So she wore the neo-silk gi only when she wasn't working. Such as now.

Miriya pushed open the door to the mess hall, scowling slightly at the small bell placed above the door. If she ever needed to enter this place silently, she was out of luck. She paused at the door, and looked around. No chow line, and the tables were round instead of rectangular, but aside from these details, it could well be a mess hall back home. She looked around, trying to figure out where to start.

The stupid little bell rang again, and a male Microne voice said, "Excuse me."

Miriya jumped, and stepped to the side, allowing the Microne - a combat pilot, judging from his uniform - to enter. She watched as he wandered over to a table near the back, and sat down. A young female, dressed in a fashion similar to herself, walked over to him.

Ah. So that was the procedure. Merely take a seat, and a food services specialist would accomodate your needs. The only free seat was directly across from him, so she took it.

The female turned to her. "Would you like a menu?"

"Menu?" Was this a foodstuff?

The woman handed her a small document, then said, "I'll be back in a second, okay?"

The Microne pilot answered. "Not a problem, Eri."

Miriya examined the document, and discovered that at the top, where Micrones tended to put headings on documents, was the word Menu. She scanned it, and realized that it was a list of foodstuffs, as well as the number of food vouchers she'd need to submit to acquire each one. Of course, she had no clue what any of the dishes were.

The pilot was staring at her. She glanced up at him, then realized that it wasn't her; it was her clothes.

"Is something amiss?"

The pilot gestured towards her. "The outfit...I..." He shrugged. "Guess you caught the talent contest, way back when, eh?"

"Yes." She looked back at the menu.

The young man spoke up again. "There something in particular I can help you with?"

"No, thank you."

"Um." He scratched his head. "Then why didja sit here?"

She set down the menu and looked at him. His phrasing was rather coarse, compared to most of the people she'd heard here, and his words were rude by even her own standards. "This was the only free space left."

"Okay." He raised a hand, as though in self-defense. "No need to be touchy, okay?"

"I am not being touchy." Miriya frowned at him. "I am merely answering your questions."

Whatever the pilot might have responded with was lost, as the food services specialist returned. "Ready to order?"

"Sure, Eri. I'll take a Number Three plate and a Number Six plate. Four egg rolls on the side. And a coffee. Please."

"Big appetite as always, eh, Ranma?" She turned to Miriya. "And you?"

Miriya closed her menu. "The same."

The pilot blinked.

Eri chuckled, and turned back to the pilot. "What's Akane gonna think, you dating another girl behind her back?"

"She ain't gonna think nothin'. This chick just sat down here 'cause it was the only free space."

"Then why is she wearing that gi, huh?" Eri chuckled. "A fan?"

"I doubt it."

"Don't worry. I won't tell her." The girl turned and left.

Miriya was somewhat confused. She was certain that she understood the Microne words 'chick', 'date', and 'fan'. But here, they had been used considerably out of context. She turned her attention back to the pilot.

The pilot - Ranma? - was still looking at her oddly. "You an Amazon?"

Another word she was not familiar with. She decided to counter his question with one of her own. "You are a combat pilot?"

"Yep."

"Valkyries?"

"Until recently."

She leaned forward. "What happened recently?"

"Got transferred. My entire squad got shot to hell, fightin' the alien Amazons. Nearly got their leader myself."

Miriya's eyes narrowed. 'Amazon' was apparently the Microne word for the Meltraedi. Had she found her quarry so soon?

"Now I'm leadin' a bunch of misfits, with goofed-up Mecha. So--" Ranma stopped, as the fine hairs on the back of his neck went up. He jumped back, his chair falling to the ground.

Miriya stood, grabbing the table and flipping it to the side. From one sleeve she drew a wicked looking dagger. "Now you die."

"Woah!" Ranma snapped into a defensive position. "Look, lady--" She leaped forward, and the man was forced to sidestep to avoid the thrust.

"You may be a great man, but what is a man compared to an Amazon?" She struck again, and again he dodged.

"Man, this freakin' Kiss of Death thing is really getting out of hand!" He dodged her next swing. "I ain't gonna fight you, okay?"

"Then you shall die."

"Nope." He continued to retreat. "But we can just keep dancin' until the MPs get here. How's that?"

She was starting to get frustrated; all he did was avoid her. "Stand still! I will have my vengeance!"

"Look, I don't even know who the heck you are, okay? But I ain't gonna fight you. Get over it!"

Miriya opened her mouth to retort, but was cut off by the sound of approaching sirens. Microne emergency or law-enforcement vehicles. She snarled at him.

"You are a coward!" She turned, but the doorway was choked with people attempting to escape. She threw herself into the window next to her, smashing it and rolling out onto the street. The police vehicles were approaching via the main street; she ducked into an alleyway and ran as fast as she could.

She berated herself for her stupidity. This Ranma person was obviously not the warrior she sought. He showed a high level of skill and grace, but none of the precision that marked the male that had defeated her.

But at least she hadn't blown her cover.

* * *

"Freakin' Amazons!"

Ranma flipped the table back onto its legs. Luckily, nothing but a soy sauce bottle had been broken. Well, and the window, but the civil defence forces would fix that for them.

Eri cautiously stepped out of the kitchen. "Does this mean she wants to cancel her order?"

The bitch box chose this unfortunate time to blare. "Captain Saotome, report to ready room six."

Ranma cursed. "Gonna have to cancel my order, too, Eri. I'm betting I'm about to launch."


	23. 44: Toronto

**TORONTO**

Ranma stumbled as the deck of the Macross shuddered under his feet. His eyes widened; though he'd never been on board during a launch, he recognized it for what it was.

The Macross was taking off.

He managed to make it to the briefing room without further incident, and dropped himself into his seat. Clark, Mototada and Akane were already present, as were Rick Hunter and Max Sterling. At the head of the briefing room was Lisa Hayes.

That got Ranma's attention. With the Macross launching, Lisa would be most needed on the bridge. The only reason she might be here, delivering a briefing, was if the mission was frightfully important.

Ranma started to worry.

Commander Hayes glanced over at Ranma. "Captain Saotome. What is the current status of your squadron?"

"Seven Valkyries and one Rapier fully operational. One Destroid fully operational, but needing a driver--nobody's trained in it but Hendrikksen, and he's assigned to a Valk. And one fully operational, but again pilotless, Zentraedi Officer's Battle Pod."

"What about your other Rapiers?"

Ranma shrugged. "We were supposed to be assigned a tech to finish the retrofit, but nobody ever showed up."

* * *

Deep in the bowels of the ship, an angry voice was heard to bellow, "Where the hell am I now?"

* * *

Hayes glanced through her notes. "The six Rapiers are still operational, Captain. And we only need them for atmospheric duty."

"No, ma'am, they ain't." Ranma shook his head. "I got a squadron full of mecha pilots, and these things ain't mecha. At least, not yet. I ain't gonna field 'em."

"We need every functional mecha and every available pilot in the air for this mission."

"And I'm tellin' ya, ma'am, that if you force me to field those Rapiers, every one of them is gonna get shot down. Even if our mission is escorting the Goodyear Blimp. They're all but unarmoured, and they still lack the Reflex powerplants. They're not ready." His scowl deepened. "And I will refuse to follow even a direct order to field them."

Commander Hayes bit her lip. "Fine." She turned to Mototada. "Captain, the Irregulars will reinforce your unit during this mission.

"The situation is this. Captain Gloval has been under orders to stay in the Pacific Ocean long enough to take on supplies, then launch and perform a diversionary attack on the Zentraedi forces in order to draw them away from Earth. He was also ordered not to allow anyone to leave the ship. He protested these orders, and was ignored."

There was a knock at the door, and Ensign Leeds stepped in long enough to hand the Commander a note. Hayes glanced down at the note, then returned to her briefing.

"At 0800 this morning, the Captain informed the bridge crew that he intended to launch the Macross, and simply fly over cities, broadcasting his request to disembark the ship's civilian population, until the United Earth Government caved in." She smirked. "He informed us of this, giving us eight hours to act to stop him. Of course, nobody did a thing.

"We have just been contacted by the Governor of the Ontario Quadrant, who has given us permission to disembark our civilian population at Toronto. We are now en route.

"Skull Squadron will be on Ready Five. In the event of a Zentraedi attack, you will launch to defend the ship.

"Blue Squadron will be escorting the ship to Toronto. We have reason to believe that the RDF elements under the command of the UEG will be taking action to try and stop us from reaching Toronto. Since you're still down a full flight, Captain Saotome will reinforce you."

Captain Mototada threw a thumbs-up towards Ranma. "Glad to have you, pal."

Commander Hayes continued. "Let me remind you that Blue will be under Condition Two Rules of Engagement. Do not fire without orders, even if fired upon. We've got an ugly enough war going against the aliens, without picking a fight with our own people, too."

* * *

The flight deck was a buzz of activity. Blue Flight One was already away, and Flight Two was taxiing for the cats now. Ranma watched in satisfaction as his S-Type Valkyrie, brand-new paint job gleaming in the setting sun, was elevated to the deck. A technician, dressed in the dark green coveralls of his type, was sealing an access panel. Nearby, six orange-clad ordnance specialists waited to begin their work.

The green-suited tech finished his work, and turned to face Ranma.

Ranma's jaw dropped. "Ryouga!"

"It's all set, sir. Try not to wreck it again, okay?" He grinned. "And don't get yourself killed."

"Uh..." Ranma shrugged. "Okay. Didn't expect good wishes from you, though."

"It's not that. If you're gonna die...I want to be the one to kill you."

Ranma grinned. "Fair enough." He walked over to the jet, looking it over. "You done a hell of a job on this bird."

"It's as good a jet as we can still put together. But those heat-pile engines still make my teeth sweat just to look at them." He shuddered. "Bioactive reactors and gravitic generators. Ugh."

"The world's biggest Reflex batteries. One each per side." Ranma climbed up the service ladder, dropped into his seat, and began plugging in his helmet and gloves. Ryouga folded the ladder, stepped back, and watched as the ordnance boys swarmed the plane.

Ranma tapped his battle computer, and yelled out as each weapon was loaded. Only one missile was down-checked, and had to be replaced. Finally, the ordnance crew removed the tags from the jet, and Ranma began the startup sequence for the bird. "Down canopy!" He pulled a lever, and the canopy descended until it met the fuselage, sealing him into the cockpit. There was a sharp hiss, as the cabin pressurized to one point four atmospheres, the optimum for Robotech combat. He yelled, "Clear!", and threw the switches to power up the reactors.

_You choose to be_

"Huh?" Ranma shook his head, then tapped the earpiece of his intercom. He shrugged, then glanced down at the engine readouts. Everything was well in the green, so he increased the throttle and began rolling towards the staging area.

The remainder of the temporary Blue Third Flight was forming up behind him. He tapped a computer control, pulling up his tactical display. Kosuji, Goldstein and Clark, in J-Type Valkyries. Hendrikksen in a B-Type, and Dobbins in an A-Type.

The cat crewmen were dressed in purple. They rushed forward, and began fitting the Valkyries for launch. This mostly involved attaching small compressed-gas cylinders and nosewheel lugs. Second Flight was just clearing the catapults; cats one and two were already reset, and Ranma and Dobbins were waved forward to launch position.

The cat chief, a young woman, ran forward to the shooter's position and raised three fingers. Ranma set his wheel brakes, then checked his rear view mirror to ensure the jet blast deflectors were in place behind his plane. Not that he needed them, but it was habit. The cat chief waved her hand in a circle, then turned her back to the plane. Ranma advanced the throttles to maximum, and the plane strained at its brakes.

The cat chief threw her hand forward, finger extended in a shooting motion. The catapult roared, and Ranma was smacked back into his seat as the jet accelerated to three hundred knots in under three seconds. The cat chief had dropped to her stomach, to avoid decapitation by Ranma's right wing, as the plane shot past her.

Ranma pulled back on the stick lightly, climbing the jet slowly. He checked his three, pleased to see that Dobbins was right on his wing. The other four jets would be in the air in less than two minutes. He clicked his mike. "Dobbins, let's slow to two fifty klicks at Angles Ten, wait for the rest of the outfit, shall we?"

"Fine by me, boss."

* * *

"Sir." Lieutenant Grant turned to face the captain. "We are receiving a message from the United Earth Government."

Captain Gloval chewed his pipe stem. "All right, Lieutenant. Let's hear what they have to say."

Grant flipped a toggle.

"UEG to Macross. You are ordered to immediately attain orbit and carry out your mission. Your flight corridor to Toronto is denied. Do not allow any civilians to depart your craft. Fighter aircraft have been launched to intercept--"

Gloval waved a hand. "Enough of that." Grant obediently closed the channel. Gloval leaned back, scowling. "The cossacks!" He considered, then looked back up. "Inform our vanguard to expect company. Maintain Condition Two."

"Aye, sir."

* * *

"Blue Lead, this is Cat's Eyes Two. We have multiple inbound aircraft. Your bearing one one five for two forty, Angels twelve. They are inbound on the Macross, burning for four fifty knots."

Mototada clicked his mike. "Cat's Eyes Two, Blue Lead. Roger on that. Please give us a steer for intercept."

"Blue Lead, Cat's Eyes Two. Your vector for intercept is one nine three at four hundred, intercept at one fifteen."

"Roger that. Blue, come right to one nine three, and accelerate to four hundred knots. Blue Thirteen, go J-band and holler the moment they come in range."

"Roger." Ranma flipped his radar set to active. The Valkyrie-S had potent electronics, including a long-range doppler radar system. Though its range was not nearly as good as the Cat's Eyes system, it could gather a lot more data even at long range. At one hundred and fifty miles, he could read a target's speed, bearing, altitude, direction and several other useless bits of data. At fifty miles, he could get a skin paint and ID the target within a very small margin of error.

Add to that the same complex countermeasures and receiving gear that was normally found in the G-type, and you had one hell of an electronic warfare platform.

Within minutes, he had multiple targets. He waited until the computer was satisfied with the numbers, then opened his mike. "Lead, Thirteen. I got twelve targets. Bearing and velocity are consistent with Cat's Eyes bogeys. IFF reads UF-14 Falcon Jets."

"When you care enough to send the very best." Mototada had spent a fair amount of time in the Falcon, as had Ranma. "Flights break; Second go twenty miles to starboard, Third twenty miles to port."

"Seven."

"Thirteen." Ranma clicked over to his Flight's frequency. "Elements break, five second intervals, thirty degrees right." He double-checked his Nav Comp; it agreed with him. "Mark." He pulled the stick over, and noted on the radar that Dobbins had split off less than a second after he had. Five seconds later, Goldstein and Clark split off, followed by Hendrikksen and Kosuji. His RWR started beeping wildly; Ranma's eyes widened. "Lead, Thirteen, I show guidance radar, K-band."

"Roger that. Confirm weapons safe."

Ranma glanced down at the heavy Master Arm ring. "Third, confirm weapons safe."

"Two, confirmed."

"Three, weapons are safe."

"Four, confirmed."

"Five, yes."

"Six, hai."

Ranma clicked back to the Squadron freak. "Lead, Thirteen. Third Flight confirms all weapons safe."

"Second Flight confirms weapons safe."

"All right. Standard encirclement, accelerate to six hundred. Orders from home base are to fire a warning shot if they break one fifty miles. If they break fifty, splash 'em."

Twelve Valkyries swept up and around the flight of Falcons. Ranma was of two minds about the older, larger jet. At one time, he'd considered them the most powerful thing in the air. Since transferring to Valkyries, he'd changed that opinion, but that didn't mean the Falcon could be discounted.

Flight One had climbed, and was now dropping in behind the Falcons; Flights Two and Three were to either side of the formation. Ranma's RWR pinged; Blue Lead had gone active, and was painting the Falcon Jets.

Akane's voice rang out on the Squadron frequency. "Lead, Seven. I'm getting an aspect change on the three outside fighters."

"Noted. Thirteen?"

Ranma checked his Nav Comp. "One hundred seventy, sir."

"Roger that. Three. Master Arm on, select one Swordfish and slave to my paint."

"Roger that."

Ranma clicked his mike. "One fifty,sir."

"Three, weapons free."

"Fox two!"

The GH-37 Swordfish was a short-range air-to-air missile, typically heat-seeking. The missiles carried by Three were equipped for laser guidance, and were now following Blue Lead's laser paint. He led the missile up and over the lead Falcon, missing it by six feet.

The response was instantaneous. The Falcons broke, dropping airspeed and gaining altitude.

"Stay on them!" Mototada's jet leaped forward, afterburners blazing. Ranma cursed; Blue Lead was going to overshoot his target, and more than half of Blue Squadron was following their leader's example.

Including Blue Seven.

The lead Falcon rolled his jet inverted, and launched a missile. Ranma instantly slapped his jamming controls, flooding K-band with electromagnetic noise, but the missile started homing regardless. "Heat seeker, Lead!"

Mototada throttled back and broke left, as hard as he could, but there was no way he could out-turn the missile. The missile slammed into the Valkyrie, blowing it apart.

Ranma stared in shock, then clicked the Tactical freak. "Base, Blue, we are under attack. Lead is down. I need permission to shoot!"

The Falcons were maneuvering hard, and Ranma cursed as he realized that they could handily out-maneuver a Valkyrie down here in the goo. Two dropped in on his six, and he pulled up hard, but they stayed right behind him. His RWR howled at him, as the bandit's guidance radar locked him up.

Lieutenant Grant answered him. "Blue, negative, weapons safe until fifty."

"Are you nuts?" Ranma reconfigured to Gerwalk, and jetted backwards, causing the two Falcons tailing him to overshoot. "They ain't gonna reach fifty until they kill us!"

"Blue, hold fire."

"Freakin--!" He pulled the bird over, and drew his gun pod. His counter read twenty rounds for the GU-12. He glanced over the Squadron. "Blue Seven, you got two on your six."

"I know." Akane was pulling her jet all over the sky. "I'm latched solid. My wingman is--"

"Your wingman can't shoot!"

The Falcon launched a missile. Ranma roared with anger, and reached for the Master Arm ring.

_You cannot._

"Huh?" He turned. The jet was gone; the furball was gone. He stood in a field of coral flowers.

A shadowy form stood before him; he knew that the form was female. In fact, he knew whoever it was, he was sure of it. But he couldn't remember...

_Of course not. I wiped that memory. I will wipe this one, too, though it will not work as well as last time._

"Who are you?"

_I am one who leads._

"Yeah...I remember that."

_You are mutable._

"Huh?"

_You are mutable. Your machines are mutable. Everything about you is change. Like my children, you can adapt, and be whatever you want. The secret is the flower._

"The flower. Okay."

_The flower adapts...changes...protects. Be there!_ Ranma blinked. His Valkyrie had jumped, and he was now halfway between Akane's bird and the oncoming missile. He reconfigured to Battloid, and threw his ship into the missile's path.

_Protect!_

He threw up his arms, and the missile slammed into them. The impact knocked him flying, and he spent the next few seconds frantically pulling the machine back into position. He glanced down at his Valkyrie's arms, and was surprised to see them undamaged.

The sight of his Valkyrie performing a space-fold, then shrugging off a missile hit, was obviously too much for the Falcon pilot. He peeled off and bugged out. The remainder of the fighters followed suit.

The Tac freak clicked open. "Blue Squadron, you have clearance to defend yourself until and unless the bandits retreat. Condition Three Rules of Engagement."

"Thanks. Thanks a bunch." He clicked over the the Squadron frequency. "Seven, Thirteen. What the heck just happened there?"

Akane's voice was unsteady. "You space-folded between me and the missile, and raised a point-defense field."

"Okay. Just so I know." He closed the mike, and sighed.

_The secret is the flower._

* * *

The mission had failed.

The Macross had been attacked while hovering over Toronto; by then, Blue had recovered, and Skull was out defending the ship. The Macross had erected an energy barrier to block the incoming attacks. The barrier had overloaded and exploded catastrophically.

Toronto was laid waste.

Ontario had hastily reversed its offer of sanctuary to the SDF-1's civilian refugees. Captain Gloval had ordered to shape for a departure orbit.

* * *

Ranma lay on his bunk, feet on the crossbar, a Reflex power cell in his hand. "The secret is the flower." He tossed the cell lightly in his hands, feeling the sudden jolt of...something...every time it touched his skin.

"Two in one, and mutable." Toss. "You choose to be." Toss. He dropped the cell on his chest, closed his eyes, and thought back. A field of pink flowers, and that woman, or whatever she was. Pink flowers...he'd seen those flowers before.

In an earlier vision?

No...he'd seen several of them growing in the Valley of Jushenkyou.

"You choose to be..."

The change washed through him, and she opened her eyes, to see the cell nestled between her breasts. She sat up, grabbing the cell as it fell, and considered it.

"What the heck is going on with me?"


	24. 45: Amazons

**AMAZONS**

"It's called a stun pistol," said Rico. "One pull of the trigger, and your chosen target is rendered unconscious."

Bron and Konda stared at the weapon, impressed. Bron looked back up at Rico. "And with this, we'll be able to capture the Meltran?"

"You got it." He set down the pistol, and hefted a small but heavy device. "As soon as the red light goes on here, we zap the Meltran, then head for the Battle Pod."

* * *

Kuh Lon looked up as the bell over the front door rang. "Welcome to the Nekohanten! Please take a--" She paused; her danger sense was pinging faintly.

The woman framed in the doorway was wearing traditional chinese clothing, similar to the one Son-in-Law had worn in the talent contest. Her hair was green, right down to the roots, and unbound. And Kuh Lon could clearly see the knife hidden up one sleeve. Oh, anyone else would never notice, but her own senses were nearly superhuman.

In Cantonese, she asked, "_Are you one of the Sisters?_"

The woman looked at her, puzzled, then spoke in English. "I'm afraid I don't speak that tongue." Her accent was odd; Kuh Lon couldn't place it.

The Elder switched to English. "You seem familiar to me. Perhaps you are an Amazon, of a tribe not familiar to me?"

The woman considered this, then nodded. "Yes. I am an Amazon."

"I thought so." The old woman cackled. "So good to see a Sister, even one from a distant tribe. Please, be seated, and I'll send my great-granddaughter out to serve you."

Miriya glanced around the room, and sat down with her back in one corner. Shortly, a young Microne female came from the back room.

"You Amazon?" The girl's English was halting, and very heavily accented.

Miriya switched to Japanese. "Perhaps you speak this language better?"

"Some better, yes. Thank you." The girl smiled brilliantly. "You is Amazon?"

"Yes. Though my...tribe...use a different word."

"What is word?"

"Meltran."

The girl tilted her head. "Is unusual. Don't know language. You want ramen?"

"Ramen?"

"Food. Too-too delicious."

"All right. How much is this 'ramen?'"

"For Amazon, is free. Here only. Be back soon!" The girl turned and bounced off. Bouncing seemed to be her normal mode of movement.

Miriya frowned. It seemed incredibly unlikely that the girl, or her great-grandmother, were Meltraedi. They claimed to be, but of course they could be lying. She would have to investigate more thoroughly.

* * *

Elsewhere...

Reality rippled, and a fleet of a thousand warships fell out of the rift in space/time. They immediately dispersed their tight formation, spreading out until they encompassed a half-sphere of approximately fifty thousand kilometers diameter. And moved in, unerringly, on Earth.

On the bridge of the flagship, Breetai, Supreme Commander of the Botoru Armoured Regiment, surveyed the tactical arrangement of the Meltran Fleet. He turned to his aide, a tiny - for a Zentran - and rather gnomish man. "**Exedore, please establish communication with Azonia's ship.**"

"**At once, My Lord.**"

The projecbeam crackled to life, and Azonia's face formed before him. "**Ah, Lord Breetai! What brings you to this part of space?**"

"**The fact that you have failed in your mission, Azonia. The Protoculture Fortress remains in the hands of Zor's Descendents. Dolza has charged me with its recovery. The Alliance remains; we shall both reap the benefits of the Fortress' capture.**" Breetai allowed himself a tight grin. "**But I have been placed in command of this operation.**"

Azonia's face darkened. "**I have not had sufficient time or resources to allocate to--**"

"**You have had six megapulses to complete the assignment, as well as the Fifth Botoru Battalion to assist the Quadrano.**"

"**Fifth Botoru is a liability, and has cost us three battles.**"

"**Nonetheless, you have failed, and Dolza has ordered me to resume command.**"

Azonia smirked. "**Do not think that you can merely step in and take command. Any one of my troops is worth five of yours.**"

"**But you are outnumbered ten to one. The nearest Meltraedi fleet would require three kilopulses to arrive.**" He crossed his arms. "**You will submit, or you will be destroyed.**"

Azonia cut the projecbeam; Breetai turned to Exedore. "**Transmit the recovery code.**"

"**If I may, My Lord...**" Exedore folded his arms and leaned back into his seat. "**Azonia will not accept this change of command without some act of resistance. Either she will attack us, or she will attack the Micrones. Either way, we should wait for her to make her move before recovering our spies.**"

"**Yes...**" Breetai closed his one good eye, and nodded. "**Under cover of the resulting chaos. Excellent thinking as always, Exedore.**"

"**I try my best, My Lord.**"

* * *

There was a knock at the office door. Ranma glanced up from the sheaf of paper on his desk. "Come."

The door opened, and Lisa Hayes stepped in. In one hand was a Navy cup - flared lip and base, so that a sudden shift of axis was less likely to spill coffee. In the other hand was a very bulky folder. "Captain."

"Commander." He nodded. "How may I help you?"

"Three things." She set the coffee on his desk, opened the folder and started flipping through it. "First, I have received your request for more operational Mecha, and have approved it." She pulled out a number of pages, stapled in the top left-hand corner, and dropped it on his desk. "Four Destroids, two of them Tomahawks and two Spartans. That totals...seven Rapiers, nine Valkyries and six Destroid-type mecha. Enough rides for the entire squadron, plus four left over."

"Good. We've needed them for a while."

"Yes. Captain's considering another boarding action, and that will probably mean your team. Second." She flipped further through the folder. "I went through your debriefing, and noted that you'd experienced some sort of hallucination, shortly before you performed a space fold operation."

"Yeah." He shook his head. "It's kinda fuzzy; I don't really remember what happened. But I remember one part." His hand fell to the Reflex battery, strapped to his belt. "You know how Reflex energy lets the Valkyrie reconfigure?"

Lisa's eyes widened, as Ranma shifted from male to female, and back to male.

With no water.

"Turns out it'll let me reconfigure, too."

"Very interesting. Doctor Lang will be interested in hearing about this."

"Oh, no!" Ranma raised his hands. "Don't you dare tell him about it! He'll have me back in the lab, covered with goop and sensors, and a wire up my butt, before I have time to blink."

Lisa giggled. "All right. I won't tell anyone." She flipped through the folder. "It also says that you raised a pin-point barrier to block an incoming missile." She looked up. "How?"

"No idea." He shrugged. "Just instinct, like the first time I folded. I could probably do a fold in my sleep, now. But only in the modified S."

"Why?"

"Might have to do with all the extra Reflex energy a Kustonov Heat-Pile gives off."

"Ah." She closed the folder. "Since Reflex energy is also tied into the pin-point barrier system on the Macross, it seems likely that only the modified S will be able to raise a pin-point barrier."

"Seems that way." He nodded. "That it on the debrief?"

"Yes." She hugged the folder to her chest, and hesitated.

"The third thing?" Ranma prompted.

"Umm..." She bit her lip. "Would you care to join me for dinner tonight?"

Ranma sighed, and dropped his head into his hand.

"I'm sorry I asked." Lisa turned to leave.

"Wait, Commander." He looked up. "Look, just hear me out, okay? It's not like I don't like you or anythin'. But there's two little problems."

"Rank?"

"Not really...one pay grade isn't much. But you _are_ my direct superior. And second...I'm engaged, remember?"

"But not married."

He raised a finger. "True...but my family and hers view it as a matter of honour. How long, do you suppose, before the gossip circle gets back to Colonel Tendo on the Daedalus?"

She sighed. "Well. I'd be kicking myself forever if I hadn't asked."

"Under normal circumstances, I'd jump at the offer. But I'm afraid I can't. Sorry."

"I understand." She opened the door. "I'd better get back to the bridge." She stepped out of the office, closing the door...and grinned.

_He said he likes me! He said he'd jump at the chance!_

* * *

"It was not enough that I was defeated." Miriya paused to drain her coffee cup, then slammed it down on the table. "But to be defeated by a male!"

"Shan Pu understand." The Amazon girl nodded. "Is same to happen to Xian Pu."

"So I'm trying to find him, so I can avenge myself."

"'Avenge?'"

"I mean to kill him."

"Kill? No!" Shampoo shook her head. "Sister not understand laws?"

Miriya frowned. "What do you--"

"Is Amazon law, if defeated by male, then woman must marry! This bring more strong into tribe." Shampoo's Japanese suffered, the more excited she got; she forced herself to calm down. "Miriya find this man, and make him husband."

"Husband..." Miriya considered. "I'm afraid that I don't know that word."

Shampoo repeated, "Husband," in English, and Miriya nodded.

"Ah! I see. I must bend his strength to my will, bring him under my control, and conserve, not destroy that strength."

"Yes!"

"I don't know how I will do that...I haven't even found him yet--"

The bell over the door rang, and the three Zentraedi spies entered. The small one was holding a sidearm of some sort. Miriya jumped to her feet.

The small one blinked. "Parino!"

"What are you--"

She got no further; the Zentran raised his pistol and fired. She ducked to the side, then abruptly realized that she had not been the target; Shampoo yelped, and fell to her knees.

"Bastards!" Miriya drew her knife, and leaped towards them. The largest of the three stepped forwards, prepared to grapple her, but she sidestepped him easily and charged the pistolero.

A fist slammed into the side of her head, and she reeled. The big guy was much faster than he looked; he delivered a kick to her ribs, knocking her away from the group. She rolled to her knees, and glanced up...to find that the pistolero had leveled his weapon at her.

"Easy, Parino. Nobody has to die here." He glanced over at Shampoo, who was still on her hands and knees. "We're taking her with us, taking her back to Azonia."

Miriya scowled. Her knife lay six feet away from her; she couldn't possibly recover it before the Zentran fired. "She isn't--"

The Zentran fired. The blast hit her like a wall, flipping her backwards. Her vision blurred, and it felt like there was a two hundred pound weight on her chest. She tried to get up, but was unable to do more than twitch.

The Zentran fired again, she assumed at Shampoo. His voice came to her faintly, like her head was wrapped in cotton.

"Piece of cake! We should fight Meltraedi more often..."

* * *

Someone was shaking her, and yelling in English. She shuddered, rolled over, and pushed herself up.

"I'm alive..."

"You're lucky to be alive." The woman was dressed in U.N. Spacy whites, and had a red cross on the sleeve of her uniform. "They abducted the waitress."

Miriya shook her head. Defeated, again by a male! Though at least this time, it was by three armed Zentraedi males, when she had had nothing more than a knife. This time, she could ignore it.

* * *

"Conn, I have forty-eight bogeys closing on us."

Commander Hayes leaned forward. "Type?"

"I think they're powered armour, Ma'am. Female type. We're now also picking up another contact. Too far out for a make, but it looks like a small capital ship."

The 'Female' designation was based on Captain Saotome's belief that they were only piloted by females; though they still had no proof of this, the usage had spread. Lisa bit her lip. "Scramble the Alert One. As soon as they're clear, call up Ready Five. Oh, and call the Irregulars to Ferryboat' hanger." She slammed a hand down on the command chair's intercom. "Captain to the bridge!"

* * *

They had tied Shampoo very efficiently, and gagged her to boot, then made their way down to the salvage bay. During their explorations, the three micronized spies had had the great good luck to discover a battle pod, in almost pristine condition, and with micronized controls. Though they didn't realize it, it was the same pod used by Rick, Lisa, Ben and Max to escape from the Zentraedi. Once they had been recovered, the pod had been dumped in the salvage bay and forgotten.

Already, it was half packed with Micronian artifacts. They tossed Shampoo's unconscious body onto an air mattress, then set to work. Rico manned the pilot's station, Bron took engineering, and Konda took over the guns.

"Peak power in thirty centipulses..." Bron flipped a switch. "Particle cannons are online."

"Right." Konda switched on the targeting reticle. "Seal the hatch."

"Already done."

"Good..." Konda sighted on the bay door, and pulled the trigger.

Dual charged particle beams slammed into the door, which promptly exploded. The sudden depressurization blew the pod, with a bunch of other junk, into vacuum. Rico fired the thrusters, and aimed towards the recovery vehicle. "We'll be home within the hour."

"Yeah..." Bron sighed. "Home."

* * *

Azonia noted the approaching battle pod.

"**Fourth wing, take that pod in tow. Fifth wing, disable the Zentraedi recovery vessel. The rest of you...Charge!**"

Four wings of Meltraedi Battle Armour dove to engage Green Squadron. Azonia hung back, watching, as her troops tore up the Valkyries. She smiled. _I didn't even need to commit the destroyer. Inside a kilopulse, the Protoculture Fortress will be mine._

Her IFF beeped at her; she glanced down at her instruments, and cursed. The Micronians had launched reinforcement, and the news could simply not be worse.

Skull Squadron.

Maybe she would need that destroyer after all.


	25. 46: Crisis

**CRISIS**

Saotome's Irregulars stood at attention in Ferryboat's hanger. Captain Saotome finished his brief inspection, then stepped back.

"At ease."

The pilots shifted, hands behind backs, feet set a precise distance apart. It was not a goofing-off position; their attention was still firmly on the captain.

Saotome flipped open his folder. "CIC has pinpointed the location of a Zentraedi capital ship closing on our position. The ship is of a type that Intel refers to as a Scout Cruiser. The ship is being escorted by Female Powered Armour. Green has launched to intercept them; Skull is rotating onto the cats as we speak.

"Our orders are to board and capture the Scout Cruiser. Secondary goal is to capture at least one live Zentraedi."

He waited for the murmurs to die down, then continued. "I'm shaking up the squadron order for this. All Rapier pilots will form into First Flight; all Valkyrie pilots into Second. Green, you'll take the S; I'll take the B-Type Rapier. Third Flight remains unchanged.

"Hendrikksen, your primary job is flak suppression. Get in close to that ship and shoot anything on its surface that looks like it might shoot back. If you get a moment, try and find the landing bay.

"First Flight's job will be to escort Ferryboat One and Two, and to support the following boarding action.

"Third Flight will be aboard the Ferryboats, three to a shuttle. Upon entry, I want Third to break up into three fire-teams, with either a Spartan or the Rifleman in each, supported by two Rapiers. The Rifleman will pair up with the Invader, as well as my Wing, and will proceed to the bridge. Second Fire Team will locate and secure the engine room; Third Fire Team will perform a sweep-and-clear of all crew spaces.

"Call sign for this mission is Web. Any questions?"

Sergeant Harris, one of the Tomahawk pilots, raised a hand. "Any luck for us ground-pounders to get backseaters?" The Spartans had room for two crewmen; the Tomahawks, three.

Saotome shook his head. "None such, sorry. Your fire-control computers should be up to the job, though; it should be a simple environment. Any more questions? No? Then dismissed, and good luck."

* * *

"The tragic destruction of Toronto merely serves to drive home the point that the military cannot be trusted with authority!" Lin Kyle had attracted a small crowd at the Nekohanten. "Not only are they holding sixty thousand people prisoner on this ship, but their reckless and criminal actions over Toronto were responsible for the deaths of over five million civilians! Rumour has it that the deaths were caused by the malfunction of a piece of experimental equipment, a malfunction that caused a massive explosion! These are not--" Kyle's fist slammed into the table, punctuating his statement. "--the actions of a morally correct government!"

Miriya watched the show from a table in the back of the restaurant. She had decided long ago that this rabble-rouser could not possibly be her quarry; though she had heard stories of his fighting prowess, he was obviously a coward. She rubbed her forehead; she was still a bit dizzy, still suffering somewhat from the stun blast.

"Feeling better?"

She glanced up, to see the old woman who ran the restaurant--Cologne, that was her name--balanced on her walking stick near her elbow. "Yes, Sister. I'm better." She shook her head. "I've failed you; I could not stop them from taking the warrior Shampoo."

"You did what you could. Even I have had to bow before modern technology." She frowned. "But one thing puzzles me. One of the people I spoke to said that the abductors recognized you."

Miriya became wary; she could not risk giving away her cover. "It is possible, yes..."

"Then you might know where she is?"

"Possibly..." She bit her lip. "But I think it would be difficult to recover her at this time."

Cologne stared at her more closely. "And where might she be?"

"I--" Miriya realized that lying would not help her; this old one was like Exedore, able to see through any deception. "I believe that they were Zentraedi."

"The alien giants, eh?" She considered this. "According to eyewitnesses, they were hardly giants. One was described as being somewhat puny."

"They have the ability to change their size. A special chamber--"

"Change their size?" The old woman cackled. "A very useful ability, indeed. But how do you know this?"

"I--" She hesitated. "I've been speaking with some of the officers..."

The old woman shook her head sadly. "You're lying to me, girl. Why is that, hmm?"

Miriya cursed silently. She was still operating in the dark on so many issues; how was she to know what the Micrones did or did not know about the Zentran?

The evacuation klaxons started to sound, and Miriya breathed a sigh of relief. Escape from the interrogation of this...Microne? Meltran? She still wasn't truly certain!

The old woman cackled again. "Good thing we have a shelter built right underneath this restaurant. Big enough for everyone here." She let her gaze travel across the room. "Except that they've all elected to go somewhere else. Ah, well. It'll be just you and me down there, girl."

Miriya cursed again. Her luck was not at all improving.

* * *

"**Azonia to the** _Gerikai_**. Begin your attack run now; concentrate on the left-side projection.**"

She didn't wait for the destroyer to acknowledge, but immediately shifted to the Microne primary radio frequency. With any luck, she'd be able to tap into their communications.

Ahead of her, the remains of the Microne's Green Squadron was falling back, and the Skull was moving up to take their place. Of the forty-eight powered armour she'd launched with, five were destroyed, three were towing the Zentraedi Battle Pod towards her home cruiser, and eight were out of position, owing to their attack run on the Zentraedi Theatre Scout. She had hammered the Micrones, but the approaching reinforcements were among the best in the Micronian fleet.

Her sensors pinged again, and she spotted more craft departing the Protoculture Fortress--twelve fighter-types, and two transport shuttles. She clicked her radio freak again.

"**First wing, with me. Prepare to engage enemy fighter units.**"

One wing of powered armour against twelve Microne fighters was a gamble, but it wasn't like they were the Skull.

* * *

Flying the Rapier was an entirely new experience for Ranma.

The nimble little fighter was considerably more responsive than its larger cousin, and the fact that it was completely powered by reflex batteries--not a single fusion reactor onboard--gave Ranma a link to the bird that went way beyond anything he'd ever experienced, even in the S-Type. And now, with all the effort of glancing over his shoulder, he noted the eight Amazon powered armour approaching his flight.

"Not good." With a thought, he shifted to female form, then opened his Tac Net. "Incoming fighters. Flight Two, continue the escort. Flight One, let's give 'em a delaying action."

Flight One peeled off of the formation. Ranma reached for the gun pod, her mecha reconfiguring to Gerwalk almost without her noticing, and haloed the lead power suit. She flipped the carbine's fire selector over to one-second burst, and fired.

The gun pod whined, its smaller round and higher rate of fire making it sound much more high-pitched than the tearing-cloth buzz of the GU-11. The lead armour staggered under the hail of shells, but continued the approach. Ranma cursed, brought the underwing missiles on-line, and pickled them off. The remainder of the flight followed his lead, launching a small cloud of missiles. Each fighter was carrying four of the GH-12 Javelin missiles normally carried by Destroids; they were the first variable-fighter to be able to use the smaller missiles. But the powered armour suits were more than able to deal with the oncoming horde; cannon and laser fire detonated many of the warheads, and those that got through were simply dodged. Most of them; one suit was struck by two missiles and exploded silently, and a second was knocked off course by a near miss.

Ranma cursed, louder this time. "Keep 'em off the shuttles! Use the Stingers at point-blank range!"

The powered suits were launching their own missiles, tiny high-speed heat-seekers. Ranma gaped in amazement--she'd forgotten how many of the missiles the stupid things carried. The computer bogged down after the first two hundred new targets. She started pumping out flares, and pulled back hard of the stick.

To her surprise, most of the alien missiles were unable to acquire the fighters. It took a moment for her to realize why; Her fighters were not equipped with fusion engines. Still, the immediate panic caused by the missile attack left her flight strung out and in confusion. She scowled, and wished herself into the middle of the enemy formation.

The fighter folded, and she snapped around in a crescent kick, the fighter again reconfiguring in mid-thought. Her Soldier-mode foot caught the powered suit across the faceplate, smashing the transparent material. There was a sudden puff of frozen gas, and the suit stopped moving.

She had barely a thought to spare for the rest of her Flight, so intense was her concentration, but her ship's computer noted them, and subconsciously she knew what was going on. Lacking her link to the bird, the rest of the Flight was using more conventional tactics.

Four was still using her gun, hammering away at the enemy suit she faced off with until the alien mecha began to come apart at the seams. Kosuji's gun spun on empty, and she slammed home her spare clip. Six, one Edward Myers, had managed to get a hammerlock on another suit; he placed his fist against the other mecha's faceplate, and launched one of his wrist-mounted Stingers directly into the Amazon's face.

Her wingman had decided to go hunting on her own, and had bitten off more than she could chew; three Amazons were doing their best to box her in. Ranma folded the fighter again, appearing just behind one of the three Amazons chasing Clark. She levelled the gun pod, and put a hundred rounds into the back of the suit. The suit staggered forward, then spun and opened up with the chest-mounted autocannons.

"Oh, hell." Ranma ducked in under the streams of cannon shells, and fired a Stinger missile into the suit's carapace. The shaped-charge warhead blew clear through the armour, through the pilot, and into the fusion reactor, blowing the mecha to fragments.

Ranma glanced around the battlefield, to see that of the eight powered armour, six were disabled or destroyed, and two were moving away as fast as their thrusters could accelerate them. She smirked. _Not bad for a first outing. Maybe I could get to like this bird._

* * *

Azonia raged.

She had realized, when the tiny Microne fighter had performed a space-fold, exactly who she was up against. The Micronian female demons. Obviously, their new mecha was not as powerful as the old ones; only their leader was performing as well as always.

She glanced down at her Tac Net. The Zentraedi battle pod had been recovered, and the Theatre Scout destroyed. On the other hand, Skull was driving her warriors out of the combat zone, there was no mistake about that. She was being forced to flee.

And the _Gerikai_ was on its own.

* * *

The Valkyrie-B had a powerful radar system, with an effective range of over three hundred kilometers in space. Microwave radiation flickered across the surface of the alien scout cruiser, and a tactical map popped up in Hendrikksen's center VDU. He smiled as the computer allocated missiles from all six of the fighters to various targets on the surface of the ship, then recalculated and reallocated as he directed extra firepower against the three gun turrets on the top of the ship.

Compared to the complexities of fire-control in a Destroid, this was hardly work.

"Flight Two, this is Lead. We begin our run in thirty seconds. Fire your missiles when we break sixty kilometers. Respond."

"Two."

"Three."

"Four."

"Five."

"Six."

"Flight Two, this is One Lead. All enemy fighters have been routed. Skull sends luck. We are returning to escort Ferryboat."

Hendrikksen grinned. "Good to hear, Captain. We will pave the way for you."

The Valkyries peeled off, one by one, starting at Six. Hendrikksen pulled his ship into line as the formation began to dive towards the enemy ship.

The aliens didn't hesitate; they immediately started filling the air around the ship with flak. Flight Two was yanking and banking, desperately trying to keep out of Valhalla.

His computer beeped at him; Six had reached breakaway range, and had fired all twelve missiles. Five was lining up for release; Hendrikksen winced as a ball of energy slammed into the Valkyrie, turning it into a fireball. Then he hit the edge of the flak's effective range, and there was no time to think of anything but dodging.

* * *

Ferryboat One and Two touched down at the alien ship's primary docking bay. Ranma dropped down next to the shuttles, reconfiguring to Gerwalk as she did.

"Ninety seconds. First fire-team, with me. Second and Third, good luck."

The exact location of the bridge of this class of ship was known, due to radar imaging and recon cameras, but the internal layout was not. Luckily, it did not differ overly much from the cruiser that Hayes and Vermillion had been aboard, and Ranma quickly found her way to the bridge blast-doors. She flipped on her head-lasers, and started firing at the door.

"Captain! Hostiles on six!" Two powered suits had stepped into view behind the fire-team, and opened up with their light autocannon.

"Deal with 'em, Clark."

About the only good news was that the two armour suits were in far too close quarters to use their missiles, and the autocannons were mostly ignored by the Destroid's armour. The Rifleman brought up its GU-12 rifle/cannon, and smashed a teflon-coated depleted-uranium slug through the mecha's viewport. Clark, for her part, was bouncing her own autocannon rounds off of the second suit, but to no avail. The Rifleman traversed its main gun, and fired a second round, killing the other target.

"Captain." Clark sounded worried. "The Rapiers can't fight these units effectively in these quarters."

"Noted." Ranma stepped back and examined the blast-doors, which were glowing cherry-red from her sustained laser fire. She raised her arm, and immediately heard the growling tone from the Scorpion missiles in her forearm as they locked onto the doors.

"Knock, knock."

The blast rattled the mecha, and blew large amounts of molten metal into the bridge. Ranma and Goldstein stepped in, moving to the side to make room for Chavez' Destroid, and glanced around the bridge.

The compartment was a shambles; most of the consoles were damaged, and there were three bodies slumped over their posts. Only two of the alien giants were still moving, and one of those was face-first on the ground, trying to get up. The other held a laser pistol the size of Ranma's GU-10, pointed at her mecha.

And to Ranma's surprise, it was a female.

There was a click in Ranma's ear. "Second Fire-Team to Web Lead. Engine room is secure."

Ranma grinned. "Thank you, Harris." She clicked on the externals. "Please put down the weapon and surrender. Your ship is now under our control."

The Amazon scowled. "**Meltraedi elihaar aeloth.**"

"I'm sure it's a wonderful language, but I don't speak it." She gestured with the gun. "Drop the weapon."

The Amazon fired it. Ranma threw up an arm, blocking the blast, then dropped the Amazon with a blast from the GU-10. She then whirled to face the other survivor, who had managed to get to her knees.

The smaller Amazon raised her hands, a defiant look on her face.

"Very smart, lady. Clark."

"Captain?"

"Cuff her." Ranma flipped over to Command Tac. "Web Lead to Base. Mission accomplished. One POW in custody."

* * *

"Lord Breetai will not be pleased with your interference, Azonia."

The Meltraedi commander scowled down at the micronized Rico. The spy's sense of self-worth had been overly inflated by the success of his mission.

**"Don't worry, little man. You and your comrades will be going back to Breetai very shortly. I will even allow you to retain most of the Micronian artifacts. But this Meltran remains with us."**

She looked down at the unconscious girl. **"Poor thing, captured and brainwashed by the Micronians." She smiled. "Well, she will be pleased to be home." **


	26. 51: Setup

**SET-UP**

Private Deborah Cloud was flipping through the service report. "Sarge? According to this, the Captain got himself four shiny new kills."

"So?" Ryouga scowled; he saw no reason to bring up anything good about Ranma.

"So Wild Horse One needs a new skin job. And since this brings Saotome's kills to twenty-six...it's time for the special paint job."

"Oh." Ryouga nodded. It was standard operating procedure, whenever a pilot made Ace of Aces - twenty-five kills - for his fighter to be customized. The colours were chosen by the plane captain - the tech specifically assigned to the airplane, and responsible for all of its maintenance - and had to somehow match the pilot. That kid over in Skull, whatever his name was, with the blue hair and the tinted blue glasses. His fighter had gotten a blue and white paint job.

"Well then, break out the paint."

"What colours, Sarge? I mean, you know the Captain better than anyone else here."

Ryouga pondered for a moment, then snickered. "Red and black."

* * *

"Hey, Ranma." Nabiki dropped into the seat opposite her prospective brother-in- law. "Can I take a minute of your time?"

"Sure." Ranma dropped his menu. "Just make it quick, okay? My time ain't cheap." "Don't worry. I'll make it worth your while." Her smirk dropped away. "I understand you lost a pilot on your last sortie."

"Yeah." Ranma scowled; he'd come here just after writing The Letter to Sharon Miller, telling her that her baby boy wouldn't be coming home again. He'd have to see her in person eventually, but he wanted to put that off for the moment.

"I am sorry to hear it, Ranma. I knew Brad somewhat." Nabiki looked down at her hands. "He used to boast about how he flew under the best Flight Commander in the fleet."

Ranma snorted. "He meant Hendrikksen."

"Of course he did." Nabiki looked up. "Have you put in for a replacement for him yet?"

"Not yet."

"Good. I want you to request Akane."

Ranma shook his head. "I can't do that, Nabiki. My superiors - meaning Hayes - would call conflict of interest. And rightfully so."

"Do it, please." She leaned closer. "I know you won't get her, but I can guarantee you any other pilot from Blue that you want."

"...Really?" He grinned.

"Really." She glanced up, to see Kuh Lon and another Amazon approaching. "Uh, oh. Here comes trouble."

Kuh Lon chuckled. "Not this time, Nabiki. At least not for you." She turned to Ranma. "Well, Son-in-Law."

Ranma glanced over at the younger of the two Amazons. "Oh, man. It's that crazy chick from the restaurant!"

Indeed, it was Miriya. Now dressed in loose black trousers, tied at ankles and waist, and a dark green silk vest over a white blouse, she looked every inch the Amazon warrior. She scowled down at Ranma, then turned to the elder Amazon.

"Sister, is this the best you can do? I have faced him in battle, and he is a coward."

Kuh Lon shook her head. "I think you misjudge him, little one. He is both fierce and cunning." She turned back to Ranma. "I wish to ask you a favour, Son-in-Law."

"I ain't marryin' no Amazons. Not Shampoo, and especially not this crazy girl. She tried to stab me!"

"Relax, boy. Do you not recall that I chose not to press that issue? And did I not warn you there would be a price? Well, here is part of it now. Miriya, here, comes from a tribe distant from mine, and quite distant from Japan or the United States. As such, she has had difficulty fitting in with the people of the ship."

"How do you Amazons keep getting on board?"

Kuh Lon cackled. "Well, this one came on board while the ship was landed in the Pacific. She was looking for me, to give me a message. But none the less. I would ask you to take her under your wing, and teach her how to work with the people of this ship."

Ranma considered. "Well, I--"

"Hold on, Ranma." Nabiki raised her hand. "You're getting a bit of a raw deal here." She turned to the elder Amazon. "Why not sweeten the deal a bit?"

Kuh Lon narrowed her eyes. "Ranma owes me a lot--"

"And don't you want to keep it that way?" She cocked her head. "You Amazons have your own martial art, right? Why not teach Ranma here some of it?"

"Our ways are not for outsiders."

Ranma looked interested. "Actually, I like this idea. I'll teach your kid, here, or whatever she is, about life in Macross. You teach me an Amazon martial art."

Kuh Lon pondered, then raised one finger. "One maneuver."

Ranma offered his hand. "Deal."

* * *

Akane was not in a good mood.

Since the death of Captain Mototada some time ago, her squadron had been left in limbo. For the past two weeks, she'd been serving as temporary commanding officer, but it was a simple fact that she didn't have the experience required to lead Blue. Oh, she'd been doing it, even on one combat sortie, but the brass were not happy with the situation. Only a lack of good commanders kept her in the temporary position.

Pity. She was enjoying command.

Ranma had barely spoken to her in the last two months, ever since the breakup of the Angel Squadron. She knew that he'd been very busy organizing his new command, but he could at least have called!

And now, as she entered the Nekohanten - amazing how much nicer it was there without that Chinese bimbo - she was shocked speechless to see Ranma sitting down there with another woman! Worse yet, another Chinese bimbo!

"Ranma!"

Ranma jumped, and threw up his hands in self-defense. "It's not what you think!"

"Oh, really?" Akane cracked her knuckles. "Would you care to explain?"

"It's all Nabiki's fault! And the Ghoul's! They--"

"Trying to blame this on Cologne won't work, Ranma." She paused. "Though blaming it on Nabiki might."

"Cologne wanted me to teach her cousin here, or whatever she is, to fit into Japanese culture. She said that I owe her, since she stopped chasing Shampoo's claim. Nabiki worked it out so I'd learn a martial arts technique, too."

Akane considered this, then nodded. "All right, I'll let you live. Though I really should pound you just on general principle."

Ranma sputtered, "What?"

"You must have done something perverted recently that I haven't caught." She turned and bowed to the Amazon. "Tendo Akane. I'm pleased to meet you."

"I am Miriya Parino." The Amazon's accent was passable, but her bow was quite different, with one fist pressed against her chest. She straightened, and jerked her chin towards Ranma. "You are his mate?"

"Ummm--" Akane bit her lip.

Ranma muttered, "It wasn't our idea. Our dads decided for us."

"Ah." The Amazon sat back down. "I am unfamiliar with this term, 'dad'."

"Father." At Miriya's blank look, Akane offered the word in English, then continued, "A male parent." Still nothing. Akane sighed. "This is gonna be some job, Ranma."

"Want to help?"

Akane tilted her head. "How so?"

"Miriya expressed an interest in...how did you put it? 'Local male/female pairing and courtship rituals'?"

Akane giggled. "It's a lot more complex than the Amazon way of waiting for them to hit you with a club."

"So I was thinking that we could get something to eat, then go see a movie."

Akane's eyes widened. "Ranma, are you asking me to go on a date with you?"

Ranma opened his mouth to object, but paused to think. He was technically engaged to Akane, though they had put off the marriage until the end of the war, but they'd had very little interaction outside of the military. Why not a date? After all, they had to learn to get along somehow.

"All right. A date. Better still, since Miriya wants as much first-hand experience as she can get, a double date."

"And who were you considering for Miriya's date?"

"How about..." Ranma snapped his mouth shut, and dropped his head into his hands.

"Didn't think that far ahead, eh?"

Miriya cleared her throat. "If I understand the purpose of this 'date', it is to allow two potential mates to learn more about each other?"

Akane nodded. "Somewhat clinical, but basically true. The two should know each other somewhat, but a blind date is okay if you're double dating."

Miriya frowned. "I would not care for a mate who has lost his sense of vision. But if I may make a suggestion...as an Amazon, I would wish for a mate who is a great warrior. Who is the greatest male warrior you know?"

"Hey, there's an idea!" Ranma grinned. "We know plenty of great fighters!"

"Like whom?"

"Well, there's Rick Hunter. He's a really great pilot."

Akane wrinkled her nose. "He's also a chauvanistic pig. I wouldn't wish him on Minmei."

"How about Max Sterling? Rick's XO? He was with me and Rick in that brawl at the Dragon. He cleaned house. Or there's Lin Kyle. I don't like him much, but he studies Anything Goes."

"Really?"

"Really. Seems his father trained with our fathers. And there's Ryouga."

She considered the options. "Ryouga might work, but I'd be worried about him attacking you in the middle of dinner. As for Kyle, I don't think he'd want to double-date with a couple of soldiers. Plus, he's somewhat older than most of us." She frowned, and turned to Miriya. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Sixteen."

"Really? Well, you look very mature for your age. Max is eighteen, Ryouga's--how old, Ranma?"

"Twenty."

"And Kyle's twenty-two."

"How do you know that?" Ranma frowned.

"Minmei told me." She sighed, and turned back to Miriya. "Max looks like a little geek, but he's supposed to be a really good pilot. I've never flown with him, and neither has Ranma, but he has all kinds of medals. And he's kind of cute."

"I'm not sure what 'geek' means, but he sounds acceptable."

"Ranma, you wanna give him a call?"

Ranma already had his cellphone open. "Yo, Max, you busy? Think you can pop on over to the Nekohanten? We've got a blind date lined up for you." A pause, then, "Oh, hell. Well, it's a pity, Max. She's a real cutie. Okay, catch you later." He snapped his cell phone shut. "Max is in hack."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Got into a little 'disagreement' with one of the civilians, and loosened some of his teeth."

"Who?"

"Didn't say. Want me to call Kyle?"

"Might as well."

Ranma popped open the cellphone again and dialled. "Yo, Kyle? Saotome here. Yeah, the soldier boy. Look, if you're interested, I got a friend looking for a date here. Oh? Okay, fine. Talk to you later." He snapped the phone shut and sighed. "Kyle is currently very angry at the world, and at soldiers in particular, and feels that he would be less fun on a date than he could be, considering he just came out of dental surgery after having his teeth tightened."

Miriya snorted.

Ranma flipped open the phone once more and dialled. This time, he punched into the military channels.

"Private Cloud? Is my plane captain there? Put him on the horn." He glanced up and grimaced. "They're painting my jet...Yo, Ryouga? You gotta stay and supervise those kids while they paint, or can you get free? Okay, here's the deal: if ya promise not to attack me, I can get you a date. Dinner and a movie. No idea yet. Okay, grab a shower and dress casual. See you at Nekohanten in ten." He snapped the phone shut and waved his hand, as though he had just performed a magic trick.

"What sort of person is Ryouga?"

Ranma turned to the Amazon. "He's actually a pretty nice guy. He just has this unreasonable hatred of me. Blames me for all his problems. Strong as a bull, and quick as well."

"Am I going to have problems with unwanted personal contact?"

Ranma laughed. "Hell, no. Ryouga's as shy as they come. You might have a problem with _wanted_ personal contact."

Miriya leaned back in her chair, arms folded across her chest, and scowled. "I don't think so."

Akane spoke up. "Miriya, you really should try to be friendly. Don't look at a date as a challenge - I know that your people often do."

Miriya grinned a bit. "Yes."

"Look at it as a chance to have some fun. Be friendly, try to have a good time, and please...try to smile."

"I can smile."

Ranma butted in. "Yeah, but whenever you smile, you look like a panther."

Akane swatted him, then turned back to Miriya. "He's not really very polite--"

"Hey!"

"--but he does have a point. Your smiles are a touch...predatory."

* * *

Ryouga hung up the bay phone with a surprised look on his face. Ranma, actually going out of his way to do something nice for him?

"What's the matter, Sarge?"

He turned back to Jackson, the Surfaces Specialist. "Murray, can you and these three handle the finish on Wild Horse One?"

"Yep." Jackson nodded. "Why? You got a hot date?"

"As a matter of fact...yes." Ryouga turned and headed for the bay showers, unzipping his coveralls. Jackson yelled out to him as he left.

"Ya gotta give us all the dirty details tomorrow, Sarge! If ya get lucky, we'll know anyway! You'll have a big goofy grin the size of Nebraska!"

* * *

He had agonized over several critical decisions. What to wear? He decided on a pair of jeans, T-shirt and sweater - Ranma had said casual. Cologne? He owned none, and decided against parting with any of his hard-earned paycheque for such a frivolous item. Flowers? He wasn't sure if it was appropriate for a first date, especially a blind date, and he decided against it. Movie? There were three playing, including one made right here on the ship; he had seen some of the filming for it, back when it was being made, and even had a role in it as an extra. But it had been thrown together rather hastily, and probably wasn't as good as the Earth-made stuff that was also showing. Plus, opening day had been two days ago, to much fanfare...she might have seen it...

Finally, thoroughly scrubbed, shaven and poured into his least damaged set of clothing, he managed to find his way to the Nekohanten five minutes late, having only made two wrong turns. He hesitated at the door, took a deep cleansing breath, and strode in.

To find himself face-to-face with an incredibly ancient woman. His eyes bugged out. "Oh, please tell me you're not my date."

The old woman chuckled. "With tact like that, I do feel sorry for the girl. No, boy, you just came in through the wrong door." She turned him to face the service doors. "Right through there, take a left at the cash register, and look for the green hair."

"Green?"

"You should have seen mine at her age, a lovely shade of purple...Go!" She shoved him through the door.

Akane glanced up at him, then down at her watch. "Only ten minutes late. Not bad, Ryouga."

Ranma muttered, "Told you I shoulda gone to get him."

"It's fine, Ranma, he's here. Hibiki Ryouga, meet Parino Miriya."

Ryouga glanced over...to see the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes upon. Sparkling emerald eyes framed by long lashes and pencil-thin eyebrows, long tresses of green hair, refined features and a warm, friendly smile...

"I'm very pleased to meet you." He managed to stutter only a little. Inwardly, he raised a prayer to the Gods.

_Thank you, Kami-sama, for bringing this angel into my life!_


	27. 52: Double

**DOUBLE**

Miriya examined the bit of octopus as it dangled from her chopsticks. "Are you sure this is edible?"

Ryouga had hardly said a word since he had sat down. Akane elbowed him lightly, and he blurted out, "Sure! I love tako. It's good."

"I don't doubt your word, Ryouga, but I can't help thinking that it might still be alive." She peered at the mollusk. "What portion of the animal was this?"

Akane giggled. "You've never seen an octopus before?"

"No."

"It's a tentacle."

Miriya's eyes widened, and she quickly dropped the offensive bit of...whatever...back into the bowl.

Ranma had been eating quite slowly (for him). He glanced over at the Amazon. "You must have come from deep inland. Where exactly did you say you were from?"

She slid the bowl some distance away from her. "I'm from the other side of the mountains from Jushenkyou, near Mount Phoenix." This was the lie that the Elder had prepared for her, and she had even given her some personal data to go with the area for verisimilitude.

"Ah, that explains it." Ranma grinned. "Ever been to Jushenkyou itself?"

"No. I was always told to avoid it, as it was cursed."

"You got that right," muttered both Ranma and Ryouga.

She frowned. "You mean it really is cursed?"

"Yep." Ranma scowled down at his bowl. "I've been there, and been cursed by it."

"How did the curse affect you?"

Akane opened her mouth to reply, but Ranma raised a hand, and she fell silent.

"I'd rather not say." Ranma scowled. "It's personal, and really embarrassing."

"Ah." Miriya nodded. "I can understand that. I never really believed in the curse; I don't even know what exactly it is."

Ryouga butted in. "It's not a fit subject for over dinner."

"Perhaps for later, then." She turned to Ryouga. "Ranma and Akane have told me that you are a great warrior."

"Really?" Ryouga scratched the back of his head and laughed. "I don't know if I'm great, but I have been in training for the last fifteen years. Ranma's really better than me; he's been training since he was two, and has a natural ability in the Art."

"Don't let Mister Modest there fool you." Ranma was speaking around a mouthful of tako; Akane backhanded him, and he swallowed before continuing. "He's strong as an ox, and his style is designed to take advantage of that."

"Indeed?" She tilted her head. "Tell me, Ryouga. What sort of mecha do you operate?"

"Operate?" He scratched his head. "I'm not a mecha pilot at all."

"No?"

"No. I'm a mecha technician." Seeing her blank expression, he elaborated. "A grease monkey. A gearhead. A mechanic."

"Ah!" Her eyes widened. "You repair them!"

"Exactly!" He grinned, obviously pleased that he had impressed her.

And she _was_ impressed. For among the Meltraedi, a mechanic of any sort was accorded an awful lot of respect, for they went through more training than even the most capable warrior. And there was nobody at all within their entire race who could repair the complex Queadlunn-Rau Battlesuit. Oftentimes, even the primitive Zentraedi mecha would overwhelm their mechanics' abilities. Saotome had referred to this individual as his "plane captain". Therefore, Ryouga was a Valkyrie mechanic, and any Valkyrie was three times as complex as her own Battlesuit.

It was a pity that she'd not found the object of her mission, but in a way, she was almost sorry she wasn't actually looking for a mate. She suddenly found it very easy to respect Hibiki Ryouga.

"Ah! Fortune cookies." Ranma grabbed at the plate the waitress had set on the table. "China's most important contribution to world culture!"

"Ranma!" Akane slapped his hand. "Wait until Miriya's done."

"Thank you, but I think I am finished." She gestured towards the bowl. "All but the...octopus."

Ranma tossed her one of the confections. "You must have had these before, right? I mean, you're from China."

"I have, in fact." A primitive Micronian prophecy device, purposefully made vague so that it might apply to almost any situation. She cracked hers open and extracted the slip of paper...and almost dropped it.

_True love may be closer than you think._

She glanced over in surprise at Ryouga, then back at the slip.

Ranma leaned over. "What does it say, Miriya? C'mon, ya gotta read it out loud."

But she shook her head, and stuffed it hastily into her pocket.

* * *

Shampoo returned to consciousness suddenly, as if a switch had been thrown. She snapped to her feet in a practised kippup, ignoring the jackhammer of pain that the maneuver set off in her head. She glanced around her, fists raised for battle.

She was standing on a massive, greenish plastic surface, stretching off many feet in all directions. Overtop of her was a plastic bowl, nine or ten feet high. A bank of lights floated somewhere far overhead, and she could see walls in the distance.

"Well, I see we are awake."

She spun to face the source of the voice, and her breath caught in her throat. The speaker was a woman, dressed in some kind of green uniform, and was obviously not human. The greenish cast to the skin was a clue, as was the pale blue hair, and the fact that she was about ten times Shampoo's size. She was seated outside the plastic bubble, with her hands resting on what was obviously the surface of a huge table...the table that Shampoo was now standing on.

"We've had some difficulties with you, you know." She folded her hands and leaned forward. "At first, we were certain that you were Meltraedi. But when we started the resizing procedure, we quickly found that you were not."

"Resizing...?" It took her a second to put it together, and then her eyes widened. "You alien! You ones that fight us!" She frowned. "How you change size? Miriya is alien? And men with gun?"

"Yes, Miriya is one of our best warriors, on a mission to assassinate one of your greatest pilots."

Shampoo sniffed. "Not my pilots. They no take me. They no let me fight."

"Really?" The giant alien leaned further forward. "Please, tell me why they did not."

* * *

"Well, we've got three choices." Ranma's cellphone doubled as a simple public information terminal, and he was plugged into the civilian network. "We can see White Dragon, with Minmay and Kyle."

The foursome had left the restaurant, and were walking down Macross City's main boulevard. Ranma and Akane were in the lead, with Ryouga and Miriya behind them.

"I have seen this film."

"Really?" Ranma turned around, so that he could talk to Miriya while walking bacwards. "Was it any good?"

She shrugged. "I was led to believe that the film was a combat record, but I quickly saw through the disguise. The combat scenes were obviously faked. I found that it made me laugh."

Ranma grinned. "Since it's meant to be a serious film, I guess that means we should give it a miss." He turned around again, and touched a button on the phone. "We can see Shanghai Knights. At least it knows it's supposed to be a comedy."

"I'm not really in the mood for comedy, or action," said Akane. "And I don't think you want to sit through a romance, Ranma."

"Cuts it down, then." He thumbed the phone's control again. "The only other show playing is Thirteenth Guest, which is supposed to be a murder mystery." He rolled his eyes. "Brain stuff."

"Yeah, we know you don't like that sort of thing, Ranma," jeered Ryouga.

Akane sighed. "There just isn't the sort of selection we'd have back on Earth."

"The selection was greater on Earth?"

She giggled. "Yes, Miriya, when you have an entire planet's film production to choose from, there is a bigger selection at any one time. Maybe you didn't have movie theatres where you're from?"

"No." She shook her head. "My people's idea of entertainment is combat trials."

"Why am I not surprised?" Ranma shook his head.

"Be nice!" Akane swatted him again.

Miriya spoke up again. "But I have discovered one thing that I like very much since I came here."

"Which is?"

"Music."

* * *

The beat from the massive speakers pounded the entire club with a wall of sound. The band, whoever they were, seemed to believe that basser was better, and had selected most of their instruments with this philosophy in mind. The percussion was primitive but captivating, and the bass guitar player's virtuosity made Ranma wonder if there was a form of martial arts guitar playing.

Ranma was not normally a fan of really loud music, or really any music, but he had to admit that he was enjoying this. He glanced over at his companions, and grinned at the sight of Akane jumping up and down, trying to dance with the music. She was somewhat intoxicated. Miriya was leaning back against the bar, her eyes almost completely closed, and a content smile on her face. Ryouga, on the other hand, was alternating between staring at the band's electronics, and staring at Miriya.

He grinned. If nothing else good came of this, it seemed that Ryouga had found someone he really liked. Oh, and they'd so far managed to spend most of an evening in each other's company without causing major property damage.

The music came to a stop, and the lead singer said, "We're having a blast, but we gotta take a break. We'll be back in fifteen minutes."

And just like that, he could hear again.

Akane was bubbling, "I had no idea that this could be so much fun. Thanks, Miriya, this was a great idea!"

"Akane."

"What, Ranma?"

"You don't have to shout."

"Sorry." She made an audible attempt to control her voice. "It's just--"

"I know."

Miriya picked up her drink - it seemed that the bartender didn't mind serving rye and Coke to someone as good-looking as Miriya, even if she didn't have ID. "I must admit that the music here is often more..." She seemed to be stretching for the word.

Akane prompted, "Melodious?"

Ryouga offered, "Civilized?"

"Better?"

"Yes. Thank you, Ranma. I didn't want to say it myself." She rattled the ice at the bottom of the glass. "It isn't bad, but there has been better."

"Well, I like just about anything." Akane grabbed her beer and took a swig.

Ranma jerked a thumb at the beer. "And that crap you drink just proves it."

"Hey, I don't make fun of your beer." She waved the half-empty mug. "Don't make fun of mine."

"Mine isn't ten percent alcohol. Well, anyway." He sipped his beer. "At least, Miriya, you've gotten a look at the dating scene here on Macross."

"Indeed. I have to say that the mad brawl of genetic guessing might explain a lot. Though if you favour choice, at least you have that." She set her glass down on the bar. "Excuse me, but I may have had too much to drink."

"Aah, it's okay." He waved a hand dismissively. "You ain't drunk nearly as much as Akane."

"Ranma!" Akane glared at him. "Are you implying that I am drunk?"

"No, no!" He raised his hands defensively. "Not at all! I'm just sayin' that since you've drunk four of those, and Miriya's had one shot of rye, she's probably fine. Even though she's a lot lighter than you."

Ryouga winced.

"Oh." Akane considered this, then casually tossed the rest of her beer in Ranma's face.

This, of course, promptly triggered the change. Miriya's eyes became as large as saucers. Akane carefully set her now empty beer mug on the bar and walked out of the club.

Ranma ran her hands through her hair. "Cripes! Crazy women, all around me." She reached to her hip, and cursed silently; she had left the Reflex battery in her quarters.

"You..." Miriya swallowed. "You changed into a female."

"Yeah." She sighed. "Jushenkyou curse, remember?"

"It turns you into a female?"

"Long story."

Ryouga spoke up. "It's triggered by water. Hot water changes the victim back to normal; cold water triggers the cursed form." He shuddered. "Do you have any idea how scary it is being in a room with this much cold liquid all around?"

"You are also cursed?"

"Yeah." Ryouga had been drinking coffee; he raised his mug. "Why do you think I'm drinking this? If it's spilled on me, nothing happens."

Miriya turned and picked up her own drink. Ryouga raised his hands. "No way, Miriya!"

"What do you turn into?" She tilted her head and smiled; Ranma noted that yes, when she smiled, she did indeed look like a panther.

"I ain't sayin'!"

Ranma grinned. "Actually, Ryouga, I'm kinda curious myself. I've never seen what you turn into."

"There ain't that much free cold water on a space ship."

Miriya raised her glass. "I have some right here."

"All right! All right!" He sighed. "I turn into a pig."

Ranma laughed. "A pig!"

Ryouga scowled at her. "It's not funny!"

Miriya set down her drink, and turned to Ranma. "Indeed, I don't think it is. You don't seem to appreciate becoming a female."

Ranma winced. "Let's just say that it's caused me some problems. My commanding officer, when she found out about it, assigned me to command a full squadron of girls."

Miriya's eyes narrowed.

Ranma, not noticing this, continued on. "They were pretty good, all things considered, but the outfit was broken up after we got our butts kicked by some alien Amazons. Hey, did you know that there are Amazons in space, too?" She broke off, as she noticed that Miriya's expression had gone from panther to something far fiercer.

"You were defeated, you say?"

"Yeah." Her voice stammered somewhat. "They kicked our butts. Then the leader made hash outta me. I'm lucky to be alive."

Miriya stepped up, and leaned forward slightly to put herself face to face with the diminutive redhead. "Very lucky, indeed. Luckiest of all that you admit defeat."

"...Huh?"

She straightened. "Do you not think that I, as an Amazon warrior, would permit you to boast of your victory over one of ours?"

"Kiss of Death...right." She shuddered. "Or worse."

She smiled evilly. "Oh, yes. There is far worse."

* * *

"Well, it has been an interesting evening. Educational. Even enjoyable."

The Macross' life support system was programmed with small variations, to allow for the illusion of weather. The night was cool, with a bit of a breeze. The three had walked back to the Nekohanten, where Miriya was staying.

Ryouga bowed to her. "I hope you had fun."

"I think I did."

"Perhaps we could do it again sometime?" His voice squeaked a bit as he said this; Ranma noted it, but for once had the brains not to immediately tease the poor boy.

Miriya considered, then said, "Yes. I think that would be good. I can contact you through Ranma?"

"I could give you my phone number. Or you could give me yours."

"I do not currently have a phone number. Good night."

She stepped back, turned, and entered the restaurant.

Ryouga sighed, in obvious bliss.

Ranma chuckled as they walked away from the restaurant. "You seem to have made a good impression, Ryouga."

"I've never met anyone so incredible. So...fierce!"

Ranma shrugged. "Fierce isn't what you normally go for, is it?"

He turned sharply. "What do you mean?"

She started ticking names off his fingers. "Sora. Bookworm, and too scared of you to even talk around you. Miko. Quiet, retiring type. Noriko. Athletic, and seemed to be a good match for you, but definitely a follower type." She jerked a thumb back towards the restaurant. "The only thing they seem to have in common with Miriya is that they were all very good looking. In fact, Miriya's probably the plainest of the bunch."

Ryouga balled his fists. "Don't you insult her like that!"

"I'm not. Just statin' a fact. Heck, don't tell Akane, but I think Miriya's better lookin', overall, than even her. Of course, Akane's got her beat six ways from Sunday on pure cute." She sighed. "Point is, Ryouga, you've barely met her, and you've got the same stupid glazed look on your face as you did for the other three."

He frowned at this. "So you're saying...?"

"Cripes, Ryouga!" She threw her hands in the air. "I'm sayin', don't get all strung out of shape, okay? Maybe you two will work out all right, maybe not. Now, if you'll excuse me, I gotta go find Akane and apologize for whatever it was she thought I said."

* * *

Miriya dropped backward onto the tiny mattress in the bedroom the Elder had provided for her. Her mind was replaying the events of the night, over and over in rapid succession.

That Saotome, the man she had marked as a coward before, should turn out to be the Micronian Demon, was remarkable. But as good as that one was, she had beaten her twice, and Saotome admitted as much.

Ryouga...

She dug into her pocket, and extracted the small slip of paper from the fortune cookie. Once again, she read the words, then crumpled it up and threw it away.

_Sorry, Shampoo, but I think you are wrong. No mere Male could be worthy to stand beside a Meltraedi. No matter who it is._


	28. 53: Revelation

**REVELATION**

"In conclusion: The female alien known as Nitaka has refused to give any information outside of her name, rank and service number. Although she has been guarded for the last two weeks by three Destroids, she has made six attempts to destroy her guards and escape. Her present quarters help minimize the threat of her escape, but cannot eliminate it entirely."

Gloval stirred. "And where exactly are you keeping her?"

Colonel Maistroff coughed, and continued. "We have her in one of the old giant quarters, one that had not been partitioned for Human use. The room in question is one of the more structurally reinforced rooms, and we believe that it may have originally been officer's quarters."

"Good." Gloval pulled out his pipe and began to pack the bowl. "If we must have a prisoner, at least she is well cared for. What of the ship itself?"

Maistroff sat down. "Commander?"

Lisa Hayes stood up, and touched a button on her remote. The screen at the far end of the briefing room flared to life, showing gun camera footage from Web Lead, the Rapier in command of the boarding team. "Intelligence estimates that this class of ship has a four-hundred man crew. When Web performed their sweep and clear, the number on board turned out to be closer to ninety. The unarmoured women put up a valiant fight, and most of the Irregulars' mecha are in for repairs. The ship's Mecha hangars were empty."

"How many mecha did the ship carry?"

"We believe it carried about a hundred. Approximately fifty were engaged by Green, Skull and Web; perhaps thirty of those were destroyed. Intel has found evidence that the remaining fifty that should have been on the recon ship had been broken up for spare parts."

Gloval nodded. "This damages your theory, Commander, that the aliens do not know how to repair their damaged mecha."

"I disagree, Captain." Lisa shook her head. "They have cannibalized their own mecha, because they cannot manufacture even the simplest replacement part."

* * *

Miriya's eyes were wide. "They simply let anyone choose to repair mecha?"

"It's not quite that simple." Ryouga was seated next to Miriya on a park bench, and had been spending the last half hour telling her about how he came to be in the U.N. Spacy. "Originally I had wanted to fly the Valkyrie, but that takes a certain mindset that I couldn't achieve."

"What sort of mindset?"

"The guy who tested me described it as being asleep in the cockpit, without letting it affect your flying." He shook his head. "Sounds nuts to me. Then I wanted to drive the Destroids. But it turns out that Cavalry pilots have their own special qualifications, that I didn't have. Levels of multitasking and versatility that someone as single-minded as I just can't match. So then some guy asks me to put together this silly little puzzle, while six other guys were yelling and screaming all around me - I'm serious! Stop laughing!"

"I'm sorry." She composed her face, but couldn't stop snickering.

"Anyway. After that, they tell me I could be a mechanic." He shrugged. "There aren't too many combat positions on this ship that I didn't flunk out of, but a mechanic is a good, respectable position. I specialized in avionics and endo-frames, and learned Variable Engineering."

Miriya smiled, the same predatory smile that Ranma said made her look like a panther. "You know...I've always been rather interested in the Valkyries. Do you think you could manage to get me into one? Just for a look around, that is."

"Err..." Ryouga scratched the back of his head. "I dunno...I think it's against regulations."

She leaned up against him, and placed a hand on his arm. "Please?"

"Welllll...Ah!" He smacked a fist into his hand. "I know what I can do! I can get you a check-ride in a VF-1D!"

"A what?"

"It's a two-seat training model of the Valkyrie. Mostly the same, but with redundant controls in the back seat for the flight instructor. We had twelve of them originally, but because they are fully combat capable machines, we fielded many of them, and now we only have five. One of those is a reserve jet for the Irregulars."

She tilted her head. "You mean you can not only get me into a Valkyrie, but actually let me fly one?"

"Well, it couldn't be me. I'm not trained to operate a Valkyrie. It would have to be one of the Irregulars." He grinned. "And I know just which one should be doing this!"

* * *

"This is a really stupid idea," groused Ranma.

"What's the problem, Captain? Too good to give a civilian a check flight?"

"Has it ever occurred to you, Ryouga, that she's from a known anti-Unification country?" Ranma scowled. "I know, she's part of the Joketsuzoku, but they're still governed by China. More or less."

Ryouga shrugged. "So? Fokker gave Hunter a check ride, and he was underage at that point."

"Hunter wrecked that jet."

"Hunter was alone in that jet when he wrecked it. You're gonna be right behind Miriya during the whole trip."

Ranma tried to think of some other reason why this was a bad idea, and failed. He threw up his hands. "Fine! So be it! Give an Amazon a check-ride in a Valkyrie!" He pushed the document across the desk. "You sign it."

Ryouga did so, then slid it back. "You've gotta countersign, Captain. You're the officer, and the jet is attached to your Squadron."

"I ain't signin' that!"

There was a knock at the door, and Ranma's scowl deepened. "Come!"

Lisa Hayes stepped into the room. "Captain."

"Commander. How may I help you?"

She dropped another form on the desk. "I'm afraid that I have to refuse your request for Akane Tendo to be transferred to your squadron."

Ranma nodded. "I kinda figured, but I had to try."

"I understand."

"Can ya send me Wyatt instead?"

Lisa frowned, and dug into her folder. "Jane Wyatt? Isn't she a Fallen Angel?"

"Yep."

Lisa had found Wyatt's folder, and flipped through it. "I could almost call conflict on this one too, Ranma..."

Ranma nodded. "But you're not gonna, right?"

"I didn't really want to on Tendo, either." She closed the folder. "I'll approve Wyatt's transfer to the Irregulars."

"Thanks, Commander."

"Hey, what are friends for?" She glanced down at the desk. "What's this?"

Ranma sighed. "My plane captain, here, has went and fallen in love--"

"Hey!"

"--and wants to give his girlfriend a check-ride in a VF-1D."

Lisa frowned. "In a war zone?"

"She's an Amazon."

Lisa nodded. "Like that Shampoo girl you told me about, right?"

"Bingo."

"As long as it's not the other kind of Amazon..." She pulled out a pen and signed the paper. "There! All legal. And I see that you've volunteered to drive the jet for her, eh, Ranma?"

Ranma started thumping his head on the desk.

"...Ranma?"

"It's not fair...it's not fair..."

* * *

Tech Sergeant Nitaka was not happy.

It wasn't her quarters that bothered her, though it rankled her to be in a Zentraedi Officer's suite. Nor was it her current state of captivity. Such things were bound to happen in war. She had been allowed to retain her uniform, as well as her rank insignia and decorations, and was fed regularly.

But she was bored senseless.

Escape attempts had been quite entertaining, right up to and even including the moment she was clubbed unconscious by one of the Micronian mecha. But this new prison was as close to escape-proof as she had seen in a long time. The first thing she'd checked was the weapons locker that every Zentraedi Officer kept, but the Micrones had found it first, and removed any weapons that might have lived there. She had tried using brute strength against the door, and failed.

She smacked a fist into the palm of her hand. Of course, the ventilation shaft! Probably the Micrones had ignored it, given the fact that no Zentran could fit inside, but she was Meltraedi. Smaller than a Zentran, and small even for her own people. She knelt, and forced the grate open.

And cursed. The Micrones had considered this, after all. Some sort of high-energy device was active inside the shaft, generating a lattice of crimson beams, blocking it off. She considered for a moment, then lunged forward.

The beams burned her skin, but she ignored the searing pain and wrapped her hands around the generator. She quickly pulled it into the room with her, and turned it so it no longer was injuring her.

She smiled; the Micrones may have made their last mistake.

* * *

"Are you wearin' a bra, Miriya?"

Miriya frowned. "I may not understand your culture completely, Ranma, but even I know that this is not considered an acceptable question."

"There's a good reason." Ranma held up a flight suit. "These things are designed to protect you from gees by compressing against the skin. If you're wearin' a bra, it'll interfere with the pressure, and the suit won't work right."

"Ah. In that case, yes. I am."

He tossed her the suit. "There's a locker room over there. Go change into this, and take off the bra. If you don't feel like leavin' it in one of the spare lockers, you can stuff it in a pocket on the suit."

She was gone only a minute, barely long enough for Ranma to log into the Tac Net and file his flight plan. She emerged almost fearfully from the locker room, dressed in the shapeless bag of a U.N. Spacy flight suit. Ranma adjusted the seals and buckles on the suit, and noted the darker patches where the U.N. Spacy insignia had been removed.

"What happened to the patches?"

She wordlessly handed them over.

Ranma scratched his head. "Why'd you take these off?"

"It's obvious that you don't want this duty, Ranma. Why did you agree to do it?"

"Duty ain't a voluntary thing. Thought an Amazon would understand that. Don't change the subject."

"I..." She sighed. "I figured you'd be happier with this, if I wasn't wearing your flag."

Ranma considered this, then nodded. "It's not you I have a problem with, just..." He tossed the insignia in his hand. "Well, thanks for thinkin' of me, anyway. Let's get down to the flight deck."

* * *

The VF-1D was, coincidentally, the same one that Ranma had flown on his first Valkyrie flight. He smiled as they approached it; it had been almost a year since he'd sat in the seat of this machine, and gotten the best shock of his life.

Miriya was rubbernecking, as was only to be expected. "Which fighter is yours?"

He pointed down the bay. "That one there." He paused. "What the heck...?" He ran down the bay, and grabbed Private Cloud. "What the heck have you done to my jet?"

She shrugged, as best she could with Ranma's fist wrapped around the front of her tunic. "Standard operating procedure, Captain. You've made twenty-five kills."

He dropped her, and turned to look at the airplane in dismay. Gone were the comfortable white and black markings; the jet was blood-red across most of the frame, with the nosecone and engine nacelles painted black. "D'you have any idea how bad this is gonna stand out in battle?"

Miriya was also looking at the jet. "I think it is quite appealing, Captain." She noted the tail numbers, and frowned. "Are you the only pilot who uses this particular Mecha?"

"Far as I know, yeah." He shivered suddenly, as Miriya's panther smile slipped into place.

Private Cloud spoke up. "While you were in stockade, Captain, the plane was assigned to Skull Squadron. Max Sterling flew it."

Miriya blinked. "Sterling?"

"Yeah. He's an even better pilot than the Captain, here."

"Don't remind me," growled Ranma.

Miriya's smile tightened. "I must meet this Sterling sometime."

"No problem. I can arrange that." Ranma shook his head in disgust. "Stupid-looking paint scheme."

* * *

"Okay, I'm putting you in the front seat for two reasons. First, it's because you'll have a much better view. Second, it's because if we need to leave the airplane, you'll have an easier time of it."

"Understood."

"Good." He handed her a helmet. "You'll need this."

She strapped the helmet on, adjusting it for fit. Such things were not needed in a Quadlunn-Rau; it took her a bit to fit it properly. Once she finished, Ranma pointed at a socket on the console. "Plug your helmet in here, and your gloves here."

"Gloves?"

He tossed her a pair. "Gloves."

"Right."

"This control here is the throttle; your microphone button is here. Press it to be able to talk to me; release to listen. This is the stick; it controls where the airplane goes. I'll be letting you try flying the plane once we're out there."

She raised an eyebrow. "That's rather above what Ryouga suggested, is it not? Also above what you actually need to do?"

Ranma shrugged. "If it's worth doing, it's worth doing right. Ejector controls are here or here; don't touch 'em unless you're absolutely certain you wish to leave the plane. If you hear me say 'eject' for any reason while we're airborne, grab the handles and pull, or you'll be doin' your first and last solo in a Valkyrie."

"Understood." She glanced around the cockpit, taking in the rest of the controls.

"Then we're set."

* * *

"Vee Tee One Oh Seven to Tower. We are go for launch."

"Cleared, 107. Have fun."

"Yeah, right."

Miriya smiled at the tone of Ranma's voice. For all that he was grumbling, she could tell that he didn't really resent this flight. If he was at all like her, he'd take any excuse to fly.

She felt a surge of power as Ranma advanced the throttles, and a surge of...something else. She frowned; it was almost as though she could feel the increase in power, rumbling deep in the engines, feel the wings draw back as the fighter accelerated.

The nose of the fighter lifted, and the jet sailed off the carrier deck. They were launching from the Promotheus, which was not normally used for carrier operations. The fighter banked, and once again, she felt the turn...and she realized what was happening.

_The Micrones have perfected a pilot/machine mental link!_

It merely confirmed something she'd suspected for weeks now.

_These Micrones must be preserved, not destroyed. They have technological and psychological advances that we must not allow to vanish, and must deny to the Zentraedi at all costs!_

* * *

Ranma pulled the jet through a nice, leisurely bank, keeping one eye on the instruments and one on deep space. It was a good day to be out on a joyride; the nearest alien battlewagon was far outside even the Macross' powerful radar system. He tapped a control, checking the forward AWACS' readout, and nodded. Nothing as far as the electronic eye could see.

It had been a long time since he had piloted a fusion-engine fighter; he reminded himself to check the engine readouts. All were fine, well in the green; his eyes drifted over to the Reflex instruments.

_Whoa!_

Miriya's readouts, as picked up by the 'Thinking Cap' and gloves, were completely blue. She was completely, and unconsciously, linked to the mecha. She could make it do anything at this point, anything at all, and probably didn't even realize it.

_Her thought patterns must be completely regimented...not really surprising for an Amazon. They're probably potty-trained at gunpoint._

He checked his Nav system; already two hundred klicks from the boat. "Ready to give it a try, Miriya?" "Sure."

"Front seat's airplane."

His instruments gave him a backseat view of her driving, one of the other reasons he'd taken this seat. Her movement of the throttle and stick were jerky and uncertain; the movements of the plane were not. She brought the fighter through several simple maneuvers, then some trickier ones. Ranma glanced over to the Reflex instruments again; still all blue.

_Incredible._

She snapped the fighter through some very tight banks, and Ranma felt the legs swing forward to accomplish the turns. Her hands did not touch the reconfiguration levers.

"Miriya, have you ever considered joining U.N. Spacy?"

"I have, but I don't think I would be accepted."

"Why not?"

She chuckled. "How do you say it? Illegal alien."

The Tac Net crackled.

"Captain Saotome? Sorry to interrupt your joyride, but we have a serious problem here."

* * *

The gun was difficult to aim, with no sights, but at such short range, Nitaka had no difficulty blowing the Valkyrie apart. Her improvised laser pistol, built from the Micronian laser-field generator, had lasted just long enough to disable one Destroid and steal its rifle/cannon.

Six more Valkyries were sweepin down on her position, launching missiles. She knew that these would be knockout gas, and simply held her breath as they burst around her. The gun howled in her hands again, and she dragged tracer fire across three of the Veritechs, carving them up like roast meat. She laughed hysterically.

"**Come on, Micrones! Bring your whole army!**"

* * *

"Miriya, there's an emergency in the city. I have to take this mecha into combat. I don't really have time to offload you, but I will if you want."

Miriya glanced at the computer readouts before her. "You have no weapons on this mecha."

"Don't worry about that. You want off?"

She shook her head. "No."

"All right." He advanced the throttles, diving towards the main body of the Macross.

The Tac Net crackled again, and Hayes' face filled his commo screen. "Skull, Green and Sepia are on deep recon patrol; Blue's returning from patrol at full afterburner, but they're still twelve minutes out. Can you fold?"

"Not in this fighter, and not in male form. And I can't change to female at the moment, either."

"I understand." She leaned off-screen, then returned. "Where are you off-loading your passenger?"

"No time."

"But--"

"I said I don't have the freakin' time!" He cut the connection, reconfigured to Gerwalk, and dropped into the city.

Miriya was fiddling with the radar controls in the front. "What are we looking for?"

Ranma grinned. "Giant Amazon goin' nuts downtown."

"...Amazon?"

"Yeah." He ejected the current ammo clip in the GU-11 - it had been loaded with paintballs, just in case - and rammed in a live clip. "We captured one, and she's broken loose. She's goin' nuts with a cannon downtown."

"Got her." Miriya haloed the giant, and pulled up an image from the front cameras. And gasped; she knew this one.

The Tac Net opened again. "Captain, you are authorized to use lethal force to stop the alien."

"Understood."

"No!" Miriya twisted around in her seat. "Can't you capture her?"

"Your passenger's sympathy is admirable." Lisa smiled slightly. "But unless you have a Valkyrie-scale stunner..."

"Negative on that, Commander, and no gas rounds either."

"Your orders stand, Captain."

Miriya stuck a gun in his face.

He boggled; where the heck had she gotten a sidearm? There had been none such in her suit when he had fitted her, he'd made certain of that...The survival kit. He cursed himself for forgetting that a 9mm pistol was standard issue in a pilot's survival kit, in the left-hand pocket of the ejector seat. He considered going for his own, and realized there was no way he could make it in time.

Miriya's face was all business. "Turn the airplane over to me. I can stop her."

"I can't do that, Miriya. I have my orders."

"Do it, or I swear by all that's holy I will blow your brains out."

"Miriya, I've got to stop her before she kills any more--"

"I can stop her."

"_How?_"

Miriya's face betrayed a momentary struggle, then her features hardened again. "I am First Lieutenant Miriya Parino, commander of the First Assault Group of the Second Quadrano Battalion of the Meltraedi. I am also Nitaka's commanding officer, and she will listen to me."

"An...You're an alien?"

She smiled. "Yes, and one who has already shot you down twice. And if you tell me to 'go suck eggs' this time, I will kill you."

From the communications console, Lisa addressed the Amazon. "Miriya, are you certain you can stop her?"

"Yes."

"Then do it."

"Hold on!" Ranma scowled. "Has the whole goddamn world gone insane? Commander, we're talkin' about handin' a Valkyrie over to an enemy ace!"

"Captain Saotome, this is a direct order. Give her the jet."

Ranma spoke very softly. "Front seat's airplane."

* * *

Nitaka hesitated as the Valkyrie dropped down in front of her, one hand raised in a Meltraedi salute. She raised the gun pod level at the mecha's chest, and waited.

There was a crackle of static as the mecha engaged its external speakers.

"**Nitaka, this is Parino. Stand down. Drop your weapon. Go with the Micronian mecha, and do not attempt to escape again.**"

"**Lieutenant?**" Nitaka lowered her cannon. "**Have you defected?**"

"**No, though I am certain that I shall be a prisoner in mere moments. Do as I say. All will become clear shortly.**"

It didn't take long; obedience to a higher-ranking officer was ingrained in every facet of Meltraedi culture. Nitaka dropped the rifle/cannon, raised her hands, and crossed them at the wrist.


	29. 54: Dissidence

**DISSIDENCE**

"I am First Lieutenant Miriya Parino, commander of the First Assault Group of the Second Quadrano Battalion of the Meltraedi."

The image on the television screen was grainy, and the audio had a tendency to crackle. Gloval sighed, and clicked his remote. The display now showed the same Meltraedi, her hands bound in front of her, seated on a chair. An unseen interrogator's voice could be heard.

"What was your mission aboard this ship?"

Miriya's eyes remained on the floor. "To locate and assassinate a pilot named Max Sterling."

"Have you encountered Lieutenant Sterling?"

"No. The only U.N. Spacy crew I have interacted with are Captain Saotome, Lieutenant Tendo, and Specialist Hibiki."

"How did you get aboard this ship?"

Gloval sighed again, and turned off the monitor. "She has answered all of our questions?"

"Yes, Captain."

He turned to face his Executive Officer. "You authorized her to go aboard a Valkyrie?"

She didn't meet his gaze, but instead kept her eyes on the back wall. "Yes, sir."

"Mm." He turned back to the now-blank screen. "Well, no harm done, luckily. I trust you will find some way of making sure this does not happen again."

"Sir...there is one person aboard who also claims to be an Amazon, and one other who may or may not still be aboard."

"I understand." He pulled out his pipe, and started to pack it with tobacco. "Investigate this discreetly, please. We've had a little too much indiscretion so far."

* * *

Ryouga grabbed the front of Ranma's flight suit and slammed him up against the bulkhead. "How could you let them just take her away?"

"I told ya! She's an alien! An enemy!" Ranma grabbed Ryouga's hands, and tried to pull them apart. "Let go of me, ya big ape!"

Ryouga slammed him against the bulkhead again, then tossed him aside as easily as though he were a rag doll. "You bastard! This is all your fault!"

"Gee, didn't see that coming." Ranma stood up, and straightened his uniform. "Now listen to me, Ryouga. She's okay, she's co-operating with Intelligence, and she saved a bunch of innocent people, all right? She even got that other Amazon co-operating."

"But she's still locked up, and it's--"

"All my fault. I know. Find a new line. And shut up. That's an order."

Ryouga gritted his teeth, and forced himself to calm down.

"I've been talking with Lisa, and she tells me that Intel's probably gonna give Miriya the run of the ship. Save for places where civvies can't go. They're likely gonna have a tail on her, because she is an enemy agent. But it's almost guaranteed that you'll see her again. Okay?"

Ryouga sighed. "Okay."

Ranma clapped him on the shoulder. "We've been getting along fairly well for almost a week now. I'd like to keep it that way."

* * *

"You were able to relocate the device without attracting any unwanted attention?"

Claudia adjusted the controls, stripping more interference from the signal. Normally, she was very careful to ignore private communication within the ship, but when said communication was highly encrypted, and bounced through the main sensor array...

"Yes, I was, and I arranged for its delivery to the gentleman during our last engagement. Have you spoken with him?"

"Oh, yes. You'd think he was overjoyed to be destroying so many of his own people. To hear him speak, you'd swear that he wasn't discussing his own people at all, but some alien race."

"How ironic."

The terminal beeped quietly; it had found a 99 match on the second voice, the one located off-ship. It started pulling up files on one Anatole Leonard, Lieutenant.

"Isn't it, though? I also told him where to acquire the ship to deliver it with."

"You've done well, my friend. There shall be a very sizeable reward for you in the future."

The communication ended with a click; Claudia cursed. The voice-trace on the first voice stood at 68. Ninety-nine was sufficient for a match, but anything less than ninety-five might as well be zero.

None the less; she'd recorded as much of the conversation as she could. No doubt Doctor Lang would find it interesting.

* * *

Colonel Maistroff sipped his coffee, then set the cup back down in front of him. "Now that we've both had a break, what say we continue this, eh, Miriya?"

Miriya's gaze did not rise from the floor. "As you wish."

"You stated that you were not the only alien spy planted aboard this vessel. Who were the others?"

"Zentraedi."

He snorted. "Of course they were."

"No, you do not understand." She looked up. "They were Zentraedi. I am Meltraedi. They were males."

"Yes, you've said that too."

"The Zentraedi are not aligned with us, under normal circumstances."

"And why is that, Miriya?"

"Because they are inferior."

Maistroff snorted.

Miriya glanced down at her wrists. "I have given my word of honour not to harm you, or to attempt to escape. I give it again. Will you please remove these binders?"

Maistroff shook his head. "I don't think that would be wise. How can I trust you?"

"How, indeed." She smirked; it was not lost on Maistroff.

"You ask me to trust you, and yet you admit that you cannot be trusted."

"No, Robert. I have stated that you are incapable of trust."

He darkened. "You will refer to me as Colonel Maistroff."

"Why?" Her expression darkened. "You have not shown me the same respect. And I am an opposing officer, who has given binding oath. Who has surrendered herself, to males, no less!"

"You are an enemy of my people, and a spy." He looked as though he would say more, but the door behind him opened.

"Colonel, I'll take it from here."

He turned, to see Commander Hayes standing behind him. "Lisa. Don't worry, I've got this situation under--"

"Colonel. Please, don't make me repeat myself." Hayes folded her arms, and stared down at the rather pudgy officer.

"My orders to interrogate the prisoner come from Captain Gloval."

"I am overruling his order."

"You cannot--"

She sighed. "Do not force me to bring your treatment of this prisoner to his attention. You recall how distressed he was over the possibility that an enlisted member of their forces was being mistreated? How much more so will he be concerned over an officer?"

Maistroff darkened, stood, and left without a further word. Hayes stepped forward, and held up a key. "Please, Lieutenant, stand up."

She stood. "I have already sworn not to try to escape, and to harm no person aboard this vessel."

"You swore it to him."

Miriya smirked. "I am pleased to see you recognize the difference. I so swear to you."

"Good." She unlocked the cuffs, and sat down in Maistroff's chair. "Unfortunately, I do have to continue questioning you."

"I understand."

"But before we begin...can I get you something to drink? Coffee, or tea?"

"Perhaps a rye and coke."

Hayes blinked.

* * *

"In short, she wishes to fly. That is all she really wishes. And to get it, she has told us, she will ensure that her people join us."

Gloval snorted. "That simple."

"Yes, sir." Hayes slid three pictures across Gloval's desk. "These are sketches of the three alien spies that were on board before Miriya. She has told me that the males of her species are somehow different from the females."

Gloval raised his eyebrows.

"More so than the obvious, sir. They each believe that the other is a separate species, and often war against each other."

"Indeed." Gloval sighed. "Of course, they might decide the same about us, seeing how we operate. All right; do you suggest we do as she asks?"

"Yes, sir." There was no hesitation in Hayes' voice whatsoever. "For one thing, the ship is dangerously low on mecha and pilots; we need as many as we can get, and if that means allying with alien Amazons...why not?" She smiled. "They appear to be excellent pilots, sir."

"Yes, they do." He frowned. "And you are asking me to place one of our Valkyries, of which you admit we have very few, in the hands of an enemy pilot. One of their best."

"I am, sir."

"Does this not strike you as dangerously foolish?"

"I suggest that she be given an under-armed mecha, equipped with a kill switch in case she proves false, sir."

"Hmm." Gloval leaned back, his cap shading his eyes, and crossed his arms. "This would reduce the chances of her causing harm...but I'm not convinced. Go on."

"Second, there is the matter of the alien cruiser we captured. We've made repairs to it, making it better than before we attacked it, but we still need a crew of thirty-to-forty-foot-tall people to operate it."

"There are no human-sized controls aboard?"

"No, sir. And we can't convert it to such, either; the technology is not the same as the Macross. We'd have to spend another ten years learning about it."

"Understood." He pulled out his pipe and began to pack it. "Not being content with putting her in a Valkyrie once, you wish to do it again, eh?"

Hayes' eyes snapped back up to the wall. "Results seemed satisfactory last time, sir."

"Calm down, Lisa. I was teasing you." He struck a match and lit his pipe, drew on it a couple of times, then turned back to Hayes. "Lord knows why I'm agreeing to this. It seems an exceptionally dangerous idea. Perhaps it's my well-known weakness for a pretty face."

Her cheeks coloured slightly, but she kept her face impassive. "Thank you, sir."

"I could have been talking about her, you know." He chuckled. "Any idea where you're going to post her?"

* * *

"Commander, have you got something against me?" Ranma threw the papers down on the desk. "This is even more stupid than last time. And this time, I can't even blame it on Ryouga."

"Orders, Captain."

"Yes, ma'am." He sighed. "Well, at least we know she's a shit-hot pilot. She proved that last time she was in a jet." He turned to Miriya. "They give you a rank yet?"

"No, Captain."

He glanced over at Hayes, who was digging through her files. "She identified herself before as a Lieutenant. That good enough for now?"

"Yes, Captain. I think we can give her a Lieutenancy."

"Great." He turned back to her. "Next, we've gotta assign you a ride. I think I have one for you; We've been given a heavily modified Zentraedi Officer's Pod--"

Lisa winced.

Miriya's expression darkened, and she stepped forward. "I am not Zentraedi. I am Meltraedi."

"...Okay. No Zentraedi Officer's Pod. Got it." He turned and studied the Table of Organization and Equipment on the back wall. "Sergeant Kosuji is about to hit Warrant. Commander, if I put in a recommendation--"

"Consider it signed, Ranma."

"Thanks, Lisa. I understand Skull's got an opening for a Flight Commander. Put her under Hunter."

"Sounds good."

"A commission is just the right parting gift for her. Plus, that frees up a Rapier for Parino to drive."

Hayes finished scribbling notes. "Got it. Can you meet me later tonight, and we can finalize this? There's some details that we have to go over."

"How much later?"

"I've got to iron out some problems over with Green and Blue Squadrons."

"What's up with Blue?"

She grinned. "They need a new commander."

"What's wrong with their old commander?" Ranma did not mean Mototada; that unfortunate had met his end on the flight to Toronto.

"She's not officially squadron commander." Lisa's grin widened. "I'm going to fix that. Green has other personnel problems. Together. it'll take me about three hours, I think. I'll page you then."

"Shouldn't be a problem."

"All right. We can make it a working dinner. I know of your fondness for food." She turned and headed for the ready-room door. "Later, then."

"Yeah." He turned to Miriya. "So you've defected, huh?"

She smiled. "So you're my new commanding officer, huh?" She flicked a hand,

knocking the glass of water into his lap. "At least let me have the illusion of a proper commander."

Ranma stood, wringing out her uniform jacket. "Never do that again."

"No promises."

* * *

"Replacement parts are extremely low, as are trained technicians." Tech Corporal Arisa ticked the issues off her fingers. "Ammunition is still at acceptable levels, but unless we leave station, there is no way to replenish."

Azonia sighed. "And we cannot leave station."

"True enough, Lady."

"My Lady." One of the bridge crew turned to face Azonia. "We have detected a Micronian warship approaching us."

Azonia stood. "What is its course and velocity?"

"Its course will have it pass us by three thousand meters, Lady. Its velocity is slow, within low limits of a Micronian ship."

"Type?"

"It appears to be a Terran Heavy Cruiser type, similar to those that screened the Protoculture Fortress from Breetai's initial attack."

Azonia nodded. Those vessels were large and extremely powerful, by Terran standards, but should pose no threat to her Command Cruiser. Provided she was not caught off guard by it.

"Launch fighters to screen us from possible enemy attack. Stand by the main gun. Warm up all secondary batteries."

The bridge flooded with crimson light, as the massive battleship went to red alert.


	30. 55: Furball

**FURBALL**

"Captain?" Doctor Emil Lang's voice showed some definite tension; this was Gloval's first hint that things were far less than perfect. He stood, and turned to face his chief science officer.

"Yes, Doctor?"

"I have some information that you and your first officer need to be aware of. We are in need of a command decision, and there is not much time to make it within."

Gloval nodded. "Very well. Lisa, would you please come with us? Claudia, you have the bridge."

"Captain, if I may..." Lang gestured towards Claudia Grant. "Your communications officer brought this information to my attention; she should be present."

Gloval sighed. "Very well. Claudia, with us. Ensign Leeds, you have the conn."

Vanessa Leeds was seventeen years old, and suddenly very scared.

* * *

"When the visitor crash-landed on Earth, both the military and the civil government became extremely excited, though over different technologies. The military wanted to get their hands on the new armour, weapon systems and, of course, the reflex system. However, the civil government's interest was primarily in the faster-than-light drive that the ship possessed."

Gloval coughed. "That's very interesting, Doctor. I believe you said we were under a time constraint?"

"Bear with me, Captain. This is relevant information. During the ten years following the crash, the civil government spent a lot of time trying to decipher the secrets of the fold system. While they met with a certain measure of success, they were unable to duplicate the navigation systems required to make a successful space fold. However, this did not stop them from creating several drive cores. At the time of our launch, three cores had been built. One was mounted on Armour Ten, with the intent of testing the system. Armour Ten was destroyed, if you recall, on Day One of the invasion. Another was stored on Mars. I believe the one on Mars was destroyed when Commander Hayes overloaded the reflex furnace."

"And the third?"

"The third was stored at Luna Base. It had been brought there for fitting aboard Armour Six. Before that could occur, however, the Armour was attacked by the Zentraedi, and was forced to put down on Luna. No rescue mission was possible, and the crew of the Armour likely asphixiated when their life-support ran out."

Beside the Captain, Commander Hayes gasped in sympathy.

"Four days ago, Lieutenant Grant brought a communication to me. This communication had originated aboard this ship, and was beamed back to Earth. According to this communication, some person was conspiring to launch an unauthorized attack against the Zentraedi. Two days ago, routine message traffic reported the launch of Armour Six from Luna's surface."

Hayes broke in. "But, Doctor Lang. The weapons aboard an Armour are ineffective against Zentraedi armour. Whoever launched that ship must know this."

"This is true. But remember that even an improperly guided fold operation can--"

"_Nichevo!_"

"Indeed, Captain, I see you grasp the importance of this information."

Gloval turned to Hayes. "Launch two Cats' Eyes. I want the area between us and both primary Zentraedi battle groups heavily monitored."

"Aye sir. And when we find Armour Six?"

"If I am not on the bridge at the time, launch a fighter squadron to stop the ship. Don't use a Ready group; set someone up for this job specifically."

"I know just the team."

Gloval next turned to Grant. "Lieutenant, I want a copy of that message. After I have that, start scanning all stored traffic for any voice-print matches to those in the original message."

"Yes, sir."

Finally, he turned to Lang. "Can you contact anyone on Earth? Perhaps get some hard science behind the possible results of an unguided fold operation?"

"Yes, I can. Doctor Lazlo Zand, my protege."

"Do it." He turned and headed for the hatch. "We have a real shot at peace; I don't want anything to mess this up."

* * *

"**Fighter screen is up, my Lady. The Micronian ship has not launched any mecha as of yet.**"

"**Understood. Status on main gun?**"

"**Main gun is eighty percent charged. Twelve centipulses to full power.**"

"**Acknowledged.**" Azonia turned back to face the tactical screen. "**Gavelo. Any information on the approaching ship?**"

"**Yes, my Lady. The approaching ship is a heavy cruiser, designated by the Micronians as an Armour-class vessel. They are equipped with eight heavy particle cannons, plus missile batteries. Their firepower is insufficient to damage a Command Cruiser, but they might be able to defeat a Destroyer.**"

She scowled, and continued to stare at the warship growing in the tactical display.

"**What's on his mind, hmm?**"

* * *

The screen cleared, and the slightly pudgy face of Lazlo Zand appeared. Like his mentor, Zand's eyes had gone completely black, a side-effect of exposure to Reflex radiation. But where Lang's face was expressionless, Zand's appeared to be locked in a perpetual sneer.

"Ah, Emil. My old friend. And how may I help you today?"

"We have a problem, Lazlo. Somebody has stolen an Armour unit, and possibly a fold reactor as well."

"Yes, so I have heard." Zand tilted his head. "I'm not sure which would prove more worrisome to you and your captain."

"It is the fold reactor for which I am seeking data. I need to know the radius of the field generated by Reactor Three."

"Reactor Three..." He frowned. "As I recall, Reactor Three's field radius was rather low. Perhaps only sixteen kilometers. Not as small as the reactor on the Dimensional Fortress, but small for our technology."

"Are you certain of that figure?"

"Oh, rather. It took me several days of research and calculation to find it."

"...Several days?" Lang didn't frown, but his eyes narrowed slightly. "Have you had cause to believe the reactor would be stolen?"

"Oh, yes. Quite definite cause. You see, it was I who informed the Zentraedi Warlord Khyron of its location."

"You _what?_"

"Ah, to finally break through that wall of unfazability. Yes, my old friend. I gave the Zentraedi the location of the device. I caused a task group, headed by Lieutenant Leonard - surely you've managed to deduce that he was involved? - to relocate the device into Armour Six. And I had Armour Six rigged for remote piloting." He smiled. "But I was uncertain of the fold radius. The Armour Unit will maneuver to within five kilometers before engaging the fold device."

"I cannot believe I am hearing this!"

"Oh, trust me, old friend. It's really for the best. An attack between two different factions of the enemy forces. Between fighting themselves, they will likely leave us alone."

"Your plot won't work." Lang shook his head. "Already, the Captain is preparing to launch a counterattack."

"That will prove unfortunate. The device has an anti-tamper mechanism in place. Attempting to damage or disconnect it will result in an instant fold." He smiled. "I have really thought of everything, haven't I? I suggest that you and your captain simply sit back and watch the fireworks."

The screen blanked out. Lang's grip tightened on the console, until his fingers literally crushed the titanium alloy.

"_Zand!_"

* * *

"Captain, Cat's Eye Two reports contact with Armour Six. Our bearing three two five mark twelve."

"Understood." Gloval sat down in his chair, and pulled out his pipe. "Lisa, have you ordered your team to stand to?"

"Yes, sir. Captain Saotome reports, however, that he is down one crewperson."

"Indeed?"

"Yes, sir. He'd requested Lieutenant Wyatt to replace a lost pilot, but she is still attached to Blue."

"And what about our...guest?"

* * *

"Let me give this to you real clear, Parino."

Lieutenant Miriya Parino was at full attention; her commanding officer's face was inches away from her own.

"I am taking one hell of a huge risk here. We have no free Rapier for you to pilot, so I am giving you a VF-1D, two-seat Valkyrie. I am even being so generous as to give you a full warload, because I cannot spare even a single pilot."

"I understand, my Lord."

"Don't call me that." He turned and pointed at a Marine. "You see Private Chen over there? He's gonna be in your back seat. He's trained in radar ops, so he will be of some help to you. But he also carried a high-powered pistol, and a good-sized bomb. Do you understand what that means?"

"Yes, Captain. If I betray you, I will not live beyond the moment."

"I'm glad we're clear on that." He stepped back. "I've faced you as an enemy before, Miriya. I believe that you are honourable. But I simply cannot take any sort of risk with the safety of the rest of my command."

"Understood, Captain."

"Fine. Suit up. We launch in twenty minutes."

* * *

Grel leaned away from the sensor hood. "**She still hasn't committed to an attack.**"

Khyron scowled. "**Perhaps she needs proper incentive. Signal the Third Company.**"

"**Yes, My Lord.**"

* * *

Mecha swarmed from every port on the Armour platform.

"**My Lady! Multiple launches, from the Armour. Company strength. They are attacking our fighter screen.**"

"**What unit?**" Azonia jumped out of her command chair and strode down to the sensor controls. "**Those accursed Angels?**"

"**No, my Lady. The attacking force is Zentraedi in composition. Unable to determine which company.**"

"**All hands to powered armour. Stand by for immediate launch.**" One for one, no Zentraedi unit could stand up to the fearsome Queaddlun-Rau Powered Armour. But she was woefully outnumbered; her command cruiser had a mere platoon of powered armour, and no other ship could vector reinforcements.

"**My Lady! A second group of mecha is on an intercept for the Micronian ship.**"

"**Good news, I hope?**"

"**I'm not sure, my Lady. EnCom reports the arrivals are a Valkyrie and Rapier mixed squadron, twelve ships. Plus two transport shuttles.**"

She pursed her lips. "**We can't risk it...Powered armour squadrons, this is Azonia. You will launch, and assume picket position. Do not engage the Zentran, or the Micrones, unless they approach the command ship. Launch!**"

* * *

"Captain! I'm showing Amazon powered armour launching."

"Understood, Web Seven." Ranma considered, then decided to stay true to mission. He tapped his controls, editing out the forty-eight Amazon mecha. The battle computer chirped, and redesignated, painting Zentraedi battle mecha only. "Stand by all Valkyries."

The computer came up with an answer it liked, and chirped cheerfully. Ranma checked the range. "Fifteen seconds to breakaway...mark. Master arm on."

"Three."

"Five."

"Flight Two reports master arm on."

Six Valkyries, twelve Swordfish missiles each. At best, seventy-two kills. Hardly enough to make a dent in the nearly three hundred mecha ahead...

"Mark!"

"Breakaway!"

Missiles were punched off the ejector racks, and ignited their engines. Seventy-two contrails streaked away towards the battlefield ahead.

The sky turned molten.

"Multiple detonations!"

"Martin, talk to me."

"Sir, I read sixty hard kills, one that might be a kill. Oh, and they're coming about."

"Got it." He smirked, and shifted to female form. "Let's rumble."

* * *

Azonia watched with amazed satisfaction as the Micronian missiles swatted better than a platoon of mecha out of the sky. **"I didn't actually expect this, but..."**

Gavelo was shaking her head. **"I don't get it."**

**"Sometimes, my old friend..."** She almost giggled. **"Sometimes the enemy of my enemy is my friend."**

* * *

Ranma jerked the trigger repeatedly, sending three tungsten penetrators into the Officer's Battle Pod. She whirled, ignoring the crippled machine, and put another into the Tactical Pod on her six. Clark was somewhere above him, but it wasn't Ranma's job to watch out for her; rather, it was Clark's job to keep Ranma safe.

It was the biggest furball she'd seen since the Battle of Uranus, and there were a lot more friendly mecha in that battle. She thought the mecha through a snap-kick, terminating a powersuit, then wished herself into the midst of a formation of Artillery pods. Her wrist-mounted Scorpion missiles flew in four directions, and destroyed the enemy mecha before they even knew she was there.

She glanced around the battlefield. The enemy was hardly a sterling example of their warriors, but sheer numbers were going to wear her squadron down. As she watched, Web Twelve, Private Brock Kaase, was blown out of the sky, and Kosuji's Rapier took a near-miss from a rocket, rendering it unable to reconfigure.

"Kosuji, get back to the ship." She glanced over, at the forty-eight mecha standing on the sidelines. "Web Thirteen. What can you tell me about that bunch? Why aren't they attacking?"

"Captain, those soldiers are the First Quadrano Battalion, command platoon. And I do not understand why they are not attacking."

"Can you get them on our side? That is, after all, why you're here."

* * *

"**Miriya Parino to Azonia.**"

Azonia's eyes widened. "**Miriya! What in the name of the Protoculture--**"

"**Azonia, I have discovered the secret of the Protoculture Fortress. But you, and myself, stand to be destroyed unless your Warriors intervene. We need your assistance.**"

Azonia nodded slowly. "**And after we defeat the Zentran, you will tell me why exactly you are fighting alongside the Micrones?**"

"**Yes, my Lady.**"

Azonia stepped closer to the monitor, even though the message was voice only. "**You ask me to take your word, despite the fact that you sit aboard a Terran mecha, fighting with the Micrones, to all appearances a traitor.**" She shook her head. "**I cannot quite believe this.**"

"**My Lady, the Terrans have discovered something of the secrets that lie within the Protoculture Fortress. I can personally show you the wonders that they have unlocked. But first, both you and I must survive this day.**"

"**Are you willing to swear by the Protoculture you have named? Will you swear by the Protoculture that you are not leading us false?**"

"**I swear it, my Lady.**"

As always, there was nothing but purest confidence in her voice. This, as much as her words, made Azonia's decision for her.

"**Very well.**" She smiled. "**I've wanted to give this order ever since the Alliance was formed.** "**All Quadrano units: Engage the Zentraedi forces!**"


	31. 56: Spacefold

* * *

SPACEFOLD

Lang rested his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers before him.

"Captain Saotome has played a pivotal role in this war. You are, of course, aware that his actions have time and again demonstrated his unswerving loyalty to our cause. His martial prowess has turned battle after battle in our favour. The loyalty he has inspired in his troops is remarkable.

"But none of you truly realize the true..." He struggled for the word. "The events that Saotome has shaped. His greatest import to the war effort, and to the Shaping."

"Web Lead, you've got a bandit on your six! Male Powered Armour!"

Ranma craned her neck wildly. "I can't see him!"

"I've got him--" Clark fired a long burst into the back of the armour suit. "Crap! My gun can't hurt him!"

"Use a Scorpion--"

"I'm all out!"

The powersuit twisted in mid-flight, bringing its plasma cannon to bear on the Rapier, and fired off a volley. The shot wasn't powerful enough to destroy the fighter, but forced Clark to break off.

"Aw, hell!" Ranma closed her eyes, and wished herself behind the enemy powersuit.

"He has, in recent times, demonstrated considerably advanced techniques. The alpha- and delta-wave links he has with his mecha is simply astounding. His ability to perform a spacefold maneuver, to generate a pinpoint barrier, or to change gender at will, all are examples of how Reflex energy has enriched this young man's life.

"To say nothing of the way events have been drawn around him, as though he was somehow _meant_ to be the center of attention..."

Ranma thought the mecha through a backflip-kick, knocking the alien's plasma cannon off its backpack and into deep space. But she was caught completely unaware when a second powersuit grabbed her from behind. The first suit turned, and leveled its energy pistol at her cockpit.

A Spartan mace slammed into the side of the suit, tearing it in half. Ranma gaped at the unmarked Amazon Powered Armour drawing the mace back from the ruined suit. Before she could react, the Amazon snapped through a turn, and fired her arm-mounted pulse laser directly into the head of the powersuit that had grappled her mecha.

The Queadllun-Rau paused long enough to throw her a quick thumbs-up, which Ranma grudgingly returned.

"I coulda gotten free...I was just about to fold outta there...but thanks."

"Main gun is fully charged, My Lady."

Azonia pursed her lips. "Status of enemy mecha fleet?"

"Fifty-five percent still operable."

"Can we fire on the Armour?"

"Yes, My Lady. But we will hit several Micronian mecha as well."

"We can't risk that." She shook her head. "Now that the Alliance is dead in all but name..."

The projecbeam snapped to life, and Breetai glowered down at her. "Azonia!"

Azonia winced. "Greetings, Lord Breetai."

"Azonia, I must inform you that Khyron is not acting on my orders. The Fifth Botoru Battalion has not been ordered to attack. Nor would have I agreed to any plan that involved dealings with the Micrones."

She smirked; perhaps things were not as bad as she'd feared. "And why not?"

Breetai's advisor, Exedore, shuffled into visual range of the projecbeam's pickup. "My Lady, there are dire warnings in all the ancient texts, the ones that we both hold sacred. These warnings advise against any contact with Micronian culture. They warn that such contact can lead us away from the Imperative!"

"The Micrones have agreed to give the Meltraedi the secrets of the Protoculture Fortress," said Azonia. "Already we have learned much about their ways and their advantages. Under the terms of our Alliance, I shall, of course, share these discoveries with you."

Breetai hesitated. "In exchange for?"

"Just what was already agreed upon: Military aid. Help me destroy the Botoru Battalion."

"Azonia, your fleet and mecha are only marginally inferior to those we have to offer," said Exedore. "Why do you need our aid?"

"You misunderstand me." She stepped closer to the projecbeam. "I want them all wiped out. The entire Botoru Battalion, and their commander.

"I want Khyron, and all who follow him, dead."

Ranma dove towards the surface of the Armour cruiser.

Zentraedi mecha still swarmed the surface of the battle cruiser; Ranma pickled off his remaining Scorpions, hoping to plow a corridor. On her left wing was Web Twelve, Miriya, who was liberally hosing the alien mecha with laserfire. On her right wing, the unmarked Amazon powersuit, launching hordes of tiny rockets from shoulder and hip packs.

Ranma shifted to Gerwalk, hitting the deck and matter-surfing from obstacle to obstacle. With any luck, she'd be able to reach the mecha airlocks, and get inside...

Luck was not with her. An Officer's Battle Pod slid out from behind a gun turret, and opened up on her mecha with its arm-mounted impact cannon.

"Yikes!" Ranma banked the Gerwalk, dodging the cannonfire, and fired a round back at the enemy pod from her GU-12. The enemy pod merely shifted its stance, and the round bounced harmlessly off the pod's armour. Ranma clicked open his mike.

"Web Twelve, can you hit this guy?"

"I think so, Captain."

His Tac Net opened, and a familiar face sneered out at Ranma.

"So, it is the Micronian she-devil, back to torment me, eh?"

"Hey, I remember you...You were on Mars."

"Indeed."

"Captain." Miriya broke in, over the audio net. "That is Khyron, the commander of the Botoru Battalion. You cannot beat him."

"Ah, Miriya. The famed Meltraedi ace, a traitor." Khyron smirked. "No surprise."

Miriya popped up and loosed two Stingers at the Battle Pod. "Captain, request permission to destroy Khyron personally."

"No."

Ranma blinked; the response had come, according to his directional gear, from the unmarked Amazon Armour. And it seemed quite familiar.

Apparently, Miriya also recognized the voice. "Sister, I am glad to hear you are well."

"Lady Azonia say, any Quadrano find Khyron, she kill."

"I understand. Captain, I suggest we leave this battle to my Sister."

"You go. I cover."

"Understood." Ranma gritted her teeth; she did not like the idea of running from a fight. And who the hell was that Amazon? She tapped the encryption controls, waited for the low chime that signalled secure communications. "Seven has lead. Miriya, I'm gonna make a run for the mecha hangar. Plow the road."

"Yes, my Captain."

Ranma shifted to Gerwalk, and jetted across the surface of the battleship. She glanced up at the rear-view mirror, saw the Officer's Battle Pod engaged in combat with the Amazon. Above her, Web Twelve had its autocannon in the right fist, and was hosing down the area ahead of her.

But there were still far too many Zentraedi.

"We cannot give you aid in this battle."

Azonia sighed. "I shouldn't have expected it. Your Imperative is as strong as ours."

Breetai nodded. "I simply cannot allow my troops to attack their own kind. But I shall order them to avoid contact with the Botoru Battalion, and to not render them aid in combat."

"Fair enough." Azonia decided not to tell him that her troops already had standing orders to kill Khyron on sight.

The Armour Unit's mecha hangar was mostly empty; a few Valkyries floated here and there, having broken free of their moorings. Ranma dropped down towards the deck, reconfiguring to Soldier Mode as she did. She checked her ammo counter, then slammed in a new clip. The bugs in the GU-12 had been mostly worked out, but jamming still was an occasional issue. She just hoped it wouldn't jam today.

"Macross, Web Lead, I'm inside the hangar."

Lisa's face popped up on the left-side communication screen. "Ferryboat will deposit your third platoon around the mecha hangar, and try to keep you from being bothered. Your target is the engine room, down one level and astern. There are no mecha-scale entrances to the engine room, so you will have to dismount your fighter."

"Understood, Macross." Ranma grabbed her portable radio and sealed her environment suit. She shifted the mecha to Gerwalk, knelt down, and popped the canopy.

"Web Seven, this is Blue Lead."

"Reinforcements! About time." Janos Hendrikksen grinned. "Sure, come on in and play."

The firefight had intensified; the Botoru Battalion had joined in force, with the better part of one hundred and fifty mecha present. The Quadrano Battalion's fifty fighting suits had committed to the battle as well, plus the ten remaining Web mecha. Sepia's eighteen would clearly shift the battle in the favour of the Terran/Meltraedi alliance.

On the surface of the Armour, a vicious duel was being fought. The six Destroids of Web's third platoon - calling it a Flight seemed wrong - kept the Zentraedi from interfering with the duel, and from entering the hangar.

The Queaddlun-Rau Powered Armour raked the target area with bolts of coherent energy from the wrist-mounted pulse laser cannons. Khyron's Glaug Combat System had more than sufficient maneuverability to avoid the laser fire, but could not find the time needed to launch an effective counterattack. He fired a missile, hoping to gain a free second or two, and watched glumly as it was shot down.

You are a fierce one, aren't you? He smiled. Killing you will be a distinct pleasure.

He volleyed his remaining missiles, and used their explosions as cover to duck behind a support pillar. From cover, he opened up with particle cannons, and managed to get a solid hit on the Powered Armour.

The Armour reeled, then launched its own volley of missiles. Unlike Khyron's mecha, the Queaddlun-Rau carried over a hundred and twenty missiles, and could launch a spread of sixteen as a mere distraction. Dodging was not an option, with missiles coming in all directions; Khyron spun, engaging the missiles with machine guns and impact cannons, and almost managed to destroy them all.

One missile slammed into the side of his mecha, the thermal plasma warhead burning a small hole in the hull and exposing the pilot's compartment to hard vacuum.

Khyron's suit was environmentally sealed, of course, but the next volley was almost certain to kill him. He snarled, and pushed his unit off the surface of the battle cruiser.

The weapon will detonate in point-five pulses! All units evacuate the surface of the cruiser!

The Valkyrie's computer had been programmed to translate Zentraedi comm chatter; Akane gasped as the Zentraedi Warlord's words reached her. "Ranma's still inside that thing."

The unmarked Queaddlun-Rau came to rest near her. "No worry, Akane. Ranma very skilled. Ranma no lose."

Akane gaped at the Powered Armour. "Who are you?"

Ranma gasped at the sight of the Fold Generator.

She had never seen the original device, the one that had malfunctioned and deposited the Macross so far from her intended destination. It was a massive machine, two long oval bands interlocking and rotating like the electron paths of an atom. And she could _feel_ the amount of Reflex energy pouring out of the device.

"It's already started..." She glanced around, but could spot no console that promised an easy shutdown of the device. To tell the truth, she had no idea what any of the consoles in the room did.

She tapped her communicator. "Macross, Web Lead. I've found it; how do I stop it?"

"Ranma, get out of there!" Commander Hayes' voice was fraying, like she was fighting off panic. "The Fold Generator's on buildup to jump; you can't stop it now. You've got twenty seconds to get out of there. Can you fold yourself back to the ship?"

"I'm not in my fighter--"

Doctor Lang broke into the channel. "Captain Saotome, there should be enough free Reflex energy in that chamber for you to fold; tap it, as though you were in the fighter!"

"Free energy...yeah." She grinned. "I can fold the Generator itself!"

"No--"

She clicked off the commlink and ran forward. Both hands touched the giant machine, and she wished herself as far away as possible.

There was a flash, and Armour Six drifted slowly towards the Meltraedi fleet.

"Massive Reflex energy spike registered, Captain, but the space fold did not occur. Armour Six and the Amazon warship are still present."

"Understood, Claudia." Captain Global turned to his first officer. "Lisa."

She stared in shock at the communications console.

"Lisa--"

She shook herself. "Captain, as far as I can tell...Captain Saotome has folded the Generator away from the ship."

"I understand that. Have you re-established contact with Captain Saotome?"

"No, sir...there's nothing but static on his channel."

Global sighed. "I understand. Sound recall, and send a message to the Amazon commander that we wish to meet with her."

Blue Lead smashed into the deck, barely catching the four wire, and Akane was out of the jet as soon as it had stopped rolling. Two technicians had to hustle to catch the bird before it floated off into space.

She charged over to the nearest airlock, waited impatiently for it to cycle, then ran through and grabbed the nearest maintenance tech. "Tracer! There's a tracer on the plane! Where's Ranma?"

"Uh--Lieutenant, the Captain had dismounted the plane; it's still in Armour Six."

"What about his commlink?"

"Nothing, sir."

Akane dropped him, and stepped back, gasping for breath.

"Sir, I'm real sorry...we all liked the Captain."

Akane shook her head. "I can't believe...can't believe he's gone..." She turned, and stumbled towards her quarters.

Lisa Hayes let herself into her quarters, took two steps towards her bed, then dropped to the floor.

_First Karl, then Ranma. I must be cursed._

She cried silently, tears running down her face, but would not allow herself to make a noise. Sobbing uncontrollably was not proper behaviour for a U.N. Spacy officer.

"These reasons, and many others too numerous to count, lead me to believe that Captain Saotome's disappearance, and probable death, can only signal a serious downturn for the war. The proceeding peace talks between Earth and the Zentraedi/Meltraedi forces are a good sign, but Breetai and Azonia command less than a twentieth part of their respective nations' fleet. We can be certain that, sooner or later, the remainder of that fleet will arrive, looking for defectors.

"Thank you for attending this meeting. If anyone wishes to speak with me further on this subject, they may do so after Captain Saotome's wake.

"Dismissed."

Lang stood, closed the folder marked simply _Saotome_, turned, and walked out of the room.

* * *


	32. 61: Reflection

**REFLECTION**

_A blood-red sun hovering over the mountain range..._

_A field of flowers, coral pink and three-petaled..._

_A valley full of pools, each with a bamboo pole standing upright in the centre..._

"RANMA!"

Akane sat bolt upright in her bed.

The room was dark, and save for the sound of her roommate's breathing, soundless. Akane dropped her face into her hands and wept.

Captain Gloval cleared his throat, and stepped up to the microphone.

"It is my great pleasure to announce that as of today, September First, Two Thousand and Ten, the Zentraedi and Meltraedi forces, and the United Earth Government, have agreed to a cease-fire. All combat forces are ordered to stand down on both sides."

The cheers were deafening; Gloval paused, and waited for the noise to abate, before continuing.

"Now, the cease-fire has been made under force of certain demands on all three sides. The United Earth Government has demanded that all Zentraedi and Meltraedi forces withdraw to the Mars Orbit at the closest. The Zentraedi forces have demanded the UEG and Meltraedi to lend their support to the search for the Zentraedi war criminal, Khyron. And the Meltraedi have demanded the right to place an ambassador on Earth, to communicate with people who may be descendants of theirs."

Gloval turned to more directly face the Meltraedi Ambassador to the United Earth Government. "Miss Parino, will you be undertaking this mission yourself?"

Miriya shook her head. "I will not. A single warrior is being sent from my ship, who will serve as our Ambassador."

Gloval frowned. "I'm not sure this would be acceptable...unless the warrior were, like you, micronized."

Miriya laughed, and stood. "Yes, my good Captain, she is a Microne."

* * *

"Prepare to meet ambassadorial transport." Akane snapped her Battloid to attention. "Present arms."

The entire Blue Squadron, chosen (she was certain) because it was the only Squadron with a female commander, raised their rifle/cannons in salute, as the Meltraedi powered armour suit touched down on the deck. Behind the suit, the hatch sealed, and with a soft explosive noise, the bay was repressurized.

The suit knelt and cracked open, but rather than a full-sized pilot, inside was a small ball-like cockpit, which was extended down to floor-level. A hatch popped open on the cockpit, and from within emerged a purple-haired figure dressed in a tight-fitting maroon jumpsuit.

Akane gaped.

Shampoo raised a thumb towards the lead Battloid. "Is good be back. Shampoo want to go to restaurant."

* * *

"Granddaughter!" Cologne cackled merrily. "So good to see you. And I see you've become quite the warrior."

"Is true." Shampoo knelt and hugged the older woman. "Much fun, but Shampoo miss you."

Miriya smiled. "It seems that my former commander was very impressed with your fighting talent, Sister. In fact, I hear you hold the squadron record on the simulator."

"Was very surprised." Shampoo giggled. "Even beat your high score."

"Simulation bored me. Besides, there's no substitute for real combat." Miriya was wearing her neosilk gi, to which she'd added a baldric, adorned with her Meltraedi decorations. Plus the three U.N. Spacy decorations she'd earned to date: Her Lieutenant's bars, her pilot wings, and her Ace ribbon.

"Azonia say she give crew for _Gerikai_, but ship remain in Terran registry." Shampoo frowned. "Not seem right, but only way it work. What _Gerikai_ mean?"

"The closest translation into your language would be Vengeance." Miriya smiled slightly. "And as for the Meltraedi crew, they will be taking orders from a Microne commander. One Colonel Maistroff, formerly of your Intelligence department."

"Meltraedi take orders from man?"

Miriya sighed. "Probably not easily. But there is only one female of command rank in the U.N. Spacy. And Captain Gloval says he is not willing to give her up. This I understand." She smirked. "He needs a woman to keep thing from going to hell."

The bell over the door rang, and Ryouga entered the restaurant. "Miriya!" He stepped forward, then paused. "Ummm..."

Miriya smiled. There was a Micronian gesture they used, she'd seen, to greet one another...She stepped up to him, and embraced him warmly. "Ryouga. Good to see you again."

Shampoo and Cologne blinked. Ryouga nearly passed out. Miriya stepped back, puzzled. "Is something...wrong? My actions are not proper? Do your people not grasp each other like this as a greeting?"

"That depends, Sister." Cologne's grin returned. "Usually, a hug is reserved for someone you like a lot. A family member, or a mate."

"Oh." She turned back to Ryouga. "I'm sorry if I caused you distress."

"I don't mind." His voice was unsteady. "Feel free to hug me anytime."

"I understand that you and Ryouga have dated in the past...Perhaps things have gone further than I knew?" Cologne shrugged. "I have been wrong in the past."

"Well, I am pleased to see you, Ryouga." Miriya smiled - a pleasant smile, for once. "Where have you been?"

"Well, Wild Horse One took some damage in her last battle, and I've been repairing that for the last four days. Plane Captain, remember?" Ryouga scratched his head. "I think I was in Hydroponics for a day or two before that...I remember some really big glass tubes with plants in 'em. Before that, well, you were in custody, and I didn't get to see much of you."

"What Wild Horse One?"

"It's Captain Saotome's personal Valkyrie," said Miriya. "The one he was flying on his last mission."

"Yep." Ryouga nodded. "As far as I know, it's been his personal airplane since the day he took command of the Angel Squadron."

"Was it not assigned to another pilot, while Captain Saotome was in the brig?"

"Yeah, I think you're right, Miriya." Ryouga pulled out a notebook and flipped through it. "Yeah...one Max Sterling. Flew it on one major mission."

"Max Sterling..." Miriya's smile reappeared, rather more predatorial this time. "I still wish to meet this gentleman..."

"He normally hangs out at the White Dragon. I could take you there now, maybe buy you something to eat--"

"Yes, that would be nice. Thank you ever so much, Ryouga."

* * *

_Paperwork. It's the bane of officers everywhere._

Max wasn't certain why exactly he'd let Rick talk him into becoming XO for the Skull. Perhaps it was his respect for the older pilot. _Older, hah. By maybe a year, if he's lucky._ But one thing he was certain of was that the resulting extra paperwork really cut down on his free time.

_I could be out trying to get laid right now if it wasn't for this confounded stuff._

The bell rang over the door of the White Dragon, and simultaneously, Max's danger sense pinged. He glanced up, to see the Meltraedi defector, Miriya Parino, followed by a Valkyrie tech.

"Maximilian Sterling?"

Max stood up slowly. "Uh-huh. And you're the Meltraedi sent to assassinate me?"

"Yes." Miriya smiled slightly. "The dishonour of being defeated by a male is not something I can easily forget."

"I see." Max shifted his feet. "If you think you're up for it, by all means..."

Miriya shook her head. "No, I am not here to attack you. As satisfying as it would be to prove I am the superior, my sister Shan Pu has told me where my duty lies."

"Yeah?"

Miriya drew in a deep breath. "Maximilian Sterling. I wish to marry you."

"WHAT?!"

The cry of astonishment came from both Max and Ryouga.

"It is my duty to conserve and protect such strength. I have no need to demonstrate my superiority; I am female. But to bind myself to a great warrior..."

"Hold on." Ryouga stepped around Miriya, placing himself between her and Max. "You mean you have to marry him, because he beat you in combat?"

"As I understand Shan Pu, yes."

"That's crazy!"

"I'm not so sure," offered Max. "After all, it allows the stronger bloodlines to mix, producing better offspring, right?" He shook his head. "What the hell am I saying?"

"In times past," said Miriya, "a Meltraedi warrior defeated by a male would be forced to commit suicide to regain her honour. Later, we allowed such to do battle with her defeator, in single combat, to the death. But Shan Pu offers me a superior option."

"Miriya, do you even know what marriage is?"

"Yes, Ryouga." Miriya nodded. "It is the union of two people, choosing to bind their lives together so that each may be made stronger by the support and aid of the other."

Max spoke softly. "And what of love?"

"Love?" Miriya frowned. "I do not truly understand 'love'; it is a concept alien to my people."

Max chuckled. "Ours too."

"Miriya, what if another defeated you?" Ryouga was thinking hard; one could almost see the smoke. "If two men had both defeated you, which would you choose?"

"I cannot choose both?"

"Two people, remember?"

"Ah." Miriya considered. "I would have to choose the one that displayed the most positive traits. The one I could more easily respect."

"Very well. Miriya Parino, I challenge you to single combat!"

Both Max and Miriya were struck silent. Max's jaw dropped as though suddenly dislocated.

"Well? Do you accept my challenge?"

Miriya closed her eyes, and a look of momentary pain crossed her face. "Ryouga, as I understood it, we were friends, possibly even more. Why do you wish to battle me?"

"To win your respect." Ryouga hesitated, then blurted out, "I love you!"

"You already have my respect." She sighed. "You wish to marry me."

"I..." He stopped, startled. "I don't know about...marriage. Not yet. But I want to make sure I have a chance. I don't want that door closed just yet."

"I think I understand." She stepped back from him. "I accept your challenge."

"Oh, boy," muttered Max.

* * *

"Lisa."

Commander Hayes pulled her eyes away from the console. "Yes, Captain?"

"Is the Ambassadorial transport ready to depart?"

"Yes, sir. The Glamour is fully prepped, and just awaiting the Ambassadors." She stood. "Sir, I respectfully request--"

"No."

"But, sir--"

"No, Lisa. My decision on the command of the _Vengeance_ stands. I need you on this bridge."

Lisa blinked. "Actually, sir, I wanted to request permission to accompany the Ambassadors."

"Oh..." Gloval pulled out his pipe, and started packing it. "I'm sorry. I can't allow that either. Partially because the transport's just before liftoff, but also because I need your help ironing out the next set of treaties. The Meltraedi will react better to you than to me."

"I'm a soldier, sir, not a diplomat."

"Then why do you wish to accompany the Ambassadors?" His eyes twinkled with amusement.

"Ummm...curiosity, sir."

"I thought so." He sighed. "Sadly, we must set it aside for duty."

_Duty,_ mused Lisa Hayes. _How often must it get in the way?_ Then she paused. "Captain...if it's duty...who's the Macross' representative to these Amazons?"

"Akane Tendo, CO of Blue."

"No, Captain." Lisa shook her head. "Akane's going as the UEG representative."

Gloval's jaw dropped, and his pipe fell to the floor. Then he laughed, loudly and without restraint. "You sneak! You know damn well they'd accept no-one but a female!"

Lisa smiled slightly. "That's what I thought. If you'll excuse me, Captain, I need to pack."

"Don't lie; your bags are probably already down on the flight deck."

Claudia turned from her communications console. "Captain, the Glamour reports ready for liftoff, but they say the Ambassadors have not yet arrived."

"Oh? And where are they?"

"I don't know. I can page Miriya's quarters--" She paused, and turned back to the console. "Sir, the Military Police are reporting a fight in Macross City."

"_Bozhe Moi_. Let me just guess."

"Yes, sir. One of the combatants is Parino. Lieutenant Sterling is there too."

"Oh, great." Lisa dropped her head into her hand. "She finally caught up with him."

"No, Lisa. Max is just watching the fight. The reports are that Miriya's fighting a tech...one Ryouga Hibiki."

* * *

Miriya blocked the kick, and forced herself not to gasp out at the pain that flared in her arm. She'd badly misjudged her opponent; he may not have been a fighting soldier, but he was most certainly a warrior.

Ryouga pressed the attack, his face set into a blank mask of concentration that would have surprised any who knew him. For Ryouga, battle was normally a result of his anger and fury; this time, he was controlling his emotions, and concentrating solely on the fight. Miriya knew that his resolve to win drove him to new heights; he felt that under no circumstances could he lose this battle.

Miriya ducked under a punch, sidestepped a kick, and turned aside another punch with as glancing a contact as she could. Inwardly, she was starting to doubt...and that was not at all something she was used to.

_Ryouga could well win this fight...and I'm not entirely certain this is a bad thing._

_Where is_ my _resolve?_

She blocked another punch, sidestepped another kick...then realized that the tricky spin-kick Ryouga had thrown, one she'd thought she'd seen from before he started it...actually travelled in the opposite direction. Straight into her head.

She hit the pavement hard, rolled, and tried to kick herself to a standing position, but Ryouga's weight slammed her back to the concrete. His face hovered over hers, his fist drawn back...and his expression melted into one of sadness.

"I'm sorry. Really."

Her last thought, before the fist slammed into her face, was one of mild surprise.

_In so many ways...he's just like me._

* * *

Max turned to the MPs. "Show's over, guys. Just a little challenge; no laws broken here." He turned back to Ryouga. "I guess this means we're rivals, eh?"

"Really?" Ryouga frowned slightly, and stood. "You didn't seem that interested."

"Well, in the second place, she is quite lovely. Not to mention an ace pilot. That's something I could go for. But in the first place...she's gotta make the decision."

"I guess you're right about that." He hung his head. "I don't feel real good about this. I just didn't wanna...ya know...be written out like that. And it seemed the only way to..." He sighed, at a loss for words.

"Trust me, buddy. I know." He dropped an arm on Ryouga's shoulders. "Hey, you're pretty good at unarmed combat. Think you and I could work out together sometime?"

Ryouga chuckled. "Guess we could."

Max grinned good-naturedly. "After all, it's not like we're fighting over the same woman, right?"

"No..." Ryouga sighed again. "She's gonna be the one doing the fighting."

"And all, on the inside, where we can't help." He gestured towards the unconscious Meltran. "Let's help her up; she's got a flight to catch."

* * *

The VC-20 Glamour was not the best transport for this sort of duty. Even the VIP version was rather spartan in its creature comforts, hardly the sort of thing an Ambassador might be pleased with. Luckily, its current occupants were not typical Ambassadors.

More to the point, as there was no airstrip within reasonable distance of the Joketsuzoku village, the vertical takeoff and landing capabilities of the airplane made it the only real choice.

Lisa was the first off the plane, stretching to work out the kinks. In the distance, she could see a small group of Amazons approaching the landing zone. She turned, to see Miriya, Akane and Shampoo disembarking. Akane and Miriya were staring at the scenery, a look of shock on their faces.

"All right, girls, we're here for work. Save the rubbernecking for your next shore leave."

"Commander...I've seen this." Akane's voice was nearly a whisper. She pointed at a nearby flower. "I remember these..." She pointed over at the mountains. "I remember those...I saw them in a dream."

"Those plants are the Flowers of Life. They are found wherever Protoculture has been. It seems even more likely that the people of Shampoo are Meltraedi." Miriya's voice was soft, reverent.

"A dream?" Lisa turned towards the approaching Amazons. "We can deal with dreams later. Right now, we need to deal with..."

She broke off, catching sight of a red-headed woman in the party. One wearing a familiar red silk shirt, and an all-too familiar pigtail.

"...A dream..."

Akane gasped.

Shampoo yelped.

Lisa almost burst into tears.

"_Ranma!_"


	33. 62: History

**

* * *

**

HISTORY

Ranma sipped his tea, then set down the teacup.

"I suppose the first thing you wanna know is where I've been?"

He was seated on a cushion, a low table in front of him. Akane, Lisa, Miriya and Shampoo were seated in similar fashion around the table. Both Shampoo and Akane looked quite at home, though Akane was steadfastly not looking at the Amazons seated on the other side of the lodge. Lisa looked rather uncomfortable on her cushion; she was obviously used to Western-style chairs, or standing at her post. Miriya had disdained the cushion entirely and knelt at the table, feet tucked under her backside and both open hands, palms down, on the table.

Lisa shifted awkwardly on her cushion. "Actually, Ranma, I was more interested in the exact events of August the twenty-fifth, twenty ten. You know...the day you vanished."

"Oh." Ranma nodded. "Right. Well, I had gotten out of my Valkyrie and run to the engine room..."

* * *

"Ranma, get out of there!" Commander Hayes' voice was fraying, like she was fighting off panic. "The Fold Generator's on buildup to jump; you can't stop it now. You've got twenty seconds to get out of there. Can you fold yourself back to the ship?"

"I'm not in my fighter--"

Doctor Lang broke into the channel. "Captain Saotome, there should be enough free Reflex energy in that chamber for you to fold; tap it, as though you were in the fighter!"

"Free energy...yeah." She grinned. "I can fold the Generator itself!"

"No--"

She clicked off the commlink and ran forward. Both hands touched the giant machine, and she wished herself as far away as possible.

She found herself in glaring brilliance. _The Sun...it's blinding me, and I can't breathe..._ She pushed herself away from the Fold Generator as hard as she could. _Vacuum...I'm in deep space. Gotta fold again..._ She shut her eyes, thought of warm sunlight and cool air, and wished herself there.

And found herself in a field of pink flowers.

"What the..." She glanced around. The landscape was vague, hard to focus on, but the flowers nearby seemed solid enough. Though there was an odd, dreamlike quality to them as well.

"I get the feelin' I've been here before." She glanced around. "An' there was a person here. A woman?"

_Not exactly._

She whirled, and found herself facing a tall, slender, and vaguely female form.

"Yeah. I've met you before."

_Again, this is not exactly true. Neither of us has physical form in this place._

Ranma took a step towards the...woman? "You helped me, last time I was here."

_And the time before, though you could not remember. By the time you leave here, you will remember our last two meetings. I can no longer manipulate your memory._

"You...you made me forget?"

_It is one of my gifts._

Ranma shook her head. "What the hell are you?"

_I am one who leads._ She shifted her gaze away from Ranma. _I led my people, a long time in the past. I permitted myself to trust, and my people were destroyed by my trust. Now I am alone. My only purpose is to lead, and I have no people to lead._

"What happened to your people?"

_We were destroyed. I guarded the secret of the Flower, which gave my people mutability and evolution. I entrusted that secret to one of my children, believing him suitable for leadership, and he betrayed me. He used the power of the Flower to turn his followers into giant warriors._

"You--" Ranma swallowed. "You're the leader of the Zentraedi?"

_No. The Zentraedi are people of the Protoculture. The Protoculture broke away from my people, seeking their own destiny, and in doing so, my people were destroyed._

"Why?"

_I do not understand why. But the day they left, they abandoned their natures and became Protoculture. And the warriors of the Protoculture were those who now call themselves Zentraedi. But the Zentraedi turned against their creators, and destroyed them. They came back to our home, and destroyed my people. Now they war among themselves, and with other people._

"But you escaped."

_All our people escaped._

Ranma scratched her head. "I don't get it. You've been tellin' me that your people were destroyed."

_And so they have been. We escaped, into this realm, all of us. But we can no longer pursue our goals of evolution. We are locked away from the physical realm. I, the One Who Leads, am trapped between the physical realm and this realm._

"I guess I see." Ranma sighed. "You came here to avoid gettin' obliterated, but it ain't much better."

_We may yet be able to return to the physical._

"And on that note...How do I get back to the physical?"

_When I decide to return you._

"Oh, great."

_Do not despair, young warrior. Though I find some pleasure in your company, I cannot allow you to remain with me. Already, what little exposure I have had to you has contaminated my perceptions._

Ranma sulked. "Ya make it sound like I'm a disease or somethin'."

_No, my young friend. It is I who is the disease._

* * *

"Woah. Jet back a sec." Akane raised a hand. "You met this really powerful person, and you called her a disease?" She shook her head. "You're more bone-headed than I thought."

"No, Akane," said Lisa. "She called herself a disease."

Akane frowned. "That makes even less sense."

Ranma leaned forward. "Look, she was right, okay? She showed me some other worlds."

"Other planets?"

"No. Other Earths." He sighed. "This is the really tricky part. See, this planet is not the only one. There are other Earths, from what she called timelines." He refilled his teacup. "Every time someone makes a really important decision, a new timeline comes into being."

"What kind of decision?"

"What if the original pilot of the Macross never decided to come to Earth? What if the Zentraedi had decided to live and let live, or just ask for the ship back? What if the Leader had never trusted her...offspring, or whatever, and never shared the secret of the Flower?"

Miriya nodded. "Such decisions could indeed reshape the destiny of the galaxy. Who could tell what sort of ramifications they could have?"

"The Leader could. She showed me an Earth invaded by her people, where the Macross never landed and we couldn't fight them off. That was the part she meant, about bein' a disease. She showed me an Earth that had been completely destroyed by the Zentraedi, blown to a million fragments. She showed me an Earth where the Zentraedi killed off all the people on the planet, leaving only the people on the Macross as survivors. She showed me an Earth where the Zentraedi destroyed ninety percent of the population, which was promptly invaded by the Zentraedi creators."

"These so-called Protoculture?"

"Naw. They were someone else, and they were still around on that timeline. The Protoculture, on our timeline, is extinct." Ranma smirked. "Unless you count these women. The Amazons."

Shampoo blinked. "Amazons? Us?"

"Yep. That was one thing she told me. Earth was colonized by the Protoculture, but they've been pushed back to their original landing place. Here."

Lisa looked a bit stunned. "Here? Are you sure?"

"Yep. Got three pieces of evidence. Number one, their myths and legends tell of the colonization. It's all symbols, but you can piece it together."

Akane shook her head. "Ranma...I'm not trying to be rude, but...this doesn't seem like you. You're not usually this..." She trailed off.

Ranma grinned. "Not usually this smart? It's okay, Akane. I'm not, really. It's just that I've had some time to think about this, okay?"

"Five days--"

"Nope." Ranma took a long draught from his teacup. "Almost two years."

* * *

"Come on, get up."

She didn't want to get up. She was cold, but she felt she was getting warmer, and the snowbank was so comfortable.

"My great-granddaughter will be most upset if you die before she can exact her revenge. Move." A hand pulled her over, face down into the snowbank. She sneezed, and started to shiver. She forced herself up on her hands.

"Am I back...?"

"Back where? Back in China? Yes."

"No, back on--" She looked up in surprise. "Snow."

"Yes. That tends to happen in winter. Now move."

"Not winter...it's summer."

"Delusions. Not a good sign." The old woman pulled on her arm. "Stand. Walk."

"Look, old ghoul--" She stopped, and looked around her. "Hey--I'm just outside your village!"

"Yes."

"But this isn't right. I was just standing in a field of flowers."

"The cold is affecting your perceptions. We need to get you to a warm place."

"Yeah...I need hot water."

"A hot bath is an excellent idea. Come on, now, you're not going to freeze to death if I can help it." She chuckled, a sound like dry twigs breaking.

"Old ghoul--I mean, Elder." She forced herself to be polite. "I'm glad you were here."

Cologne looked at her oddly. "Glad? With my great-granddaughter after your blood?"

"Hot bath first. Then talk."

"A wise choice. Follow me."

* * *

"But how Ranma get here? And when?"

"C'mon, Shampoo, I'll get to that part, okay?"

* * *

Ranma sipped at her tea. She was still shivering uncontrollably, though she'd wrapped a large woolen blanket around her.

"The blanket won't help. You're suffering from hypothermia. The blanket is keeping the heat out, not in."

"I know, okay? Is the bath ready?"

"Almost." Cologne dumped a pot of boiling water into the tub. "There is a faster way to recover body heat. Simply put another woman under the blanket with you."

"No!"

Cologne smiled. "I would understand that you'd prefer it not be me. But there are others--"

"Not a good idea, Elder." She dropped the blanket, and started stripping off her flight suit. The snow and ice that had caked on the suit had melted, rendering the suit quite soaked and useless as insulation. "You'll see why in just a sec."

She stepped into the tub, and was immediately transformed.

Cologne's eyes widened. "Ah, a Jushenkyou curse! So that was why--" Her eyes narrowed. "But you changed to a male with hot water. So that means you are really a male."

"Yep."

Cologne laughed. "Wait until my great-granddaughter learns."

"She already knows."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, we met up almost a year ago, remember? You were there."

"I have not left this village in ten years, my boy."

Ranma blinked. "Yeah, you did. Nine months ago you opened the second Chinese restaurant in space. Shampoo placed fifth in the Miss Macross competition. Then she got kidnapped by the aliens--"

"Aliens?" Cologne shook her head. "The cold did more extensive damage to your faculties than I feared."

Ranma scowled. "And you already knew about my curse, so why are you actin' like..." He stopped. "Oh, no. Very bad idea."

"What would that be?"

"What's the date?"

"Why, it's January the fourteenth, boy."

"And the year?"

Cologne blinked. "The year? It's two thousand and nine."

Ranma slid down in the tub until his chin touched the water. "Oh, man..."

* * *

"So you've been living with these Amazons for almost two years...starting eight days ago."

Ranma nodded. "That's right."

Lisa sighed. "This is a gray area in military law...technically, you've been AWOL for over five hundred days." She stopped, pulled out pen and notepad, and did the math. "Six hundred days, to be exact."

"I know."

"But alternately, you've been MIA/PD for eight days."

"Yep."

"Shampoo not know terms. What are AWOL and MIA/PD?"

"Absent Without Leave and Missing In Action, Presumed Dead." Lisa pointed her pen at Ranma. "You could have reported in during any of those six hundred days."

"Oh, yeah? So say I walked into Macross City, a day before the invasion. What might happen, with--" He ticked them off on his fingers. "My knowledge of the pending event; my record showing no leave time of any sort; my rank insignia being two pay-grades higher than my records would have shown; and, oh yeah, my alter ego running around?"

"What alter--oh, right." Lisa looked embarassed. "You were posted to Macross just before the invasion."

"Right. If I'd shown up before then, the paperwork woulda shown me AWOL from Kadena. After then, there was no Macross to report to, and any base on Earth would have me marked KIA."

"Shampoo guess, KIA is Killed In Action?"

"Good guess. Remember, Commander, we were all marked as KIA due to terrorist activity after the misfold."

Hayes nodded. "A very good point."

"So I had to hide out here until the day I folded. I was gettin' ready to leave when the message that Shampoo an' Miriya were comin' here arrived. So I decided to hang around until you got here." He grinned at Akane. "Didn't expect to see you here, though, Akane."

"Kind of a last minute thing. You know how it is."

"Typical military SNAFU. They give you permanent command of Blue yet?"

"Yes, the day after you--died." Akane shook her head. "I wasn't even used to you being dead yet, Ranma. Now I'm trying to adjust back to you being alive."

"Crazy, ain't it?"

"Not the word."

Ranma turned back to Lisa. "Well, Commander, that's it in a nutshell. 'Course, there's more to the tale, but I don't think it is relevant to the mission."

"I'd like to hear anyway, Ranma."

"All right." He leaned back. "Akane, you were there when Elder Cologne promised to teach me a martial arts maneuver from her people's style, right?"

Akane nodded. "Yes."

"Well she lived up to that promise, but I hadda tell her that she _would_ promise to do so. She didn't really believe me at first. Amazon Wu Shu is a closely-guarded secret, and she didn't believe that she'd just give away one of its techniques. But before I sent her to Macross--"

"Whoa." Lisa leaned forward. "Sent?"

"Yeah. Turns out all the problems I had with Cologne on the Macross were my own fault, because I sent her there in the first place."

"Sent her how?"

Ranma shrugged. "Folded her."

Lisa smacked a fist into her palm. "That's how she got aboard! For the life of me I couldn't figure out how."

Miriya looked puzzled. "But why would you send--"

"I hadda, alright? Because she was there. And the only way she could be there is if I sent her. It's a paradox, see?" Ranma spread his hands. "If I didn't send her, who knows what mighta happened? She wouldn'ta met you, Miriya, which means she wouldn'ta taught me no Wu Shu technique."

"Predestination paradox." Akane nodded. "I read about those, in a science fiction novel. You've done something, you go back in time, and you find out you need to do something else to make sure the first one happened right. Or something like that."

Lisa cut in. "But you couldn't have folded her."

"Why not?"

"Because you need a large supply of Reflex energy to make a spacefold. You've said that enough yourself."

"Yep." Ranma nodded.

"And there's no Reflex energy here."

"Whaddaya mean, no Reflex energy?"

Lisa smirked. "Please, Ranma. These people are living in Dark Ages technology. Where would they even lay hands on a Reflex furnace?"

"No furnace." He stood up. "Anyone in the mood for a hike?"

* * *

The view from the cliff was stunning. Over a hundred small pools, several with bamboo poles rising from them. And everywhere, including within the pools themselves, were large, coral-pink, three-petaled flowers.

"My God," breathed Lisa.

"This is the place, eh?" Akane shook her head. "I never thought I'd see the place it all began."

Miriya nodded. "And behold the Flowers of Life. Wherever the Protoculture has been, so will they be."

Ranma led the party down the narrow, treacherous path to the training grounds themselves. Lisa walked with particular care, even avoiding mud puddles.

Ranma smirked. "'Fraida water, Commander?"

"This water, yes."

"You're right to be. Nasty stuff."

"If you've been here this long, Ranma, why haven't you..." Akane waved a hand out towards the pools.

"I know what you're thinkin', Akane. Why not find Spring of Drowned Man and jump in?" He shuddered. "The curses are additive, Akane. I met a guy that had hit two different pools. He was really screwed up. I might not like my female body, but it sure beats the alternative."

Akane considered the alternative...a cursed shemale form. And shuddered herself.

"Right. I don't think our fathers would approve."

"Not even a little." He leaned over a pool, and nodded. "This is a good one. C'mere, Commander."

Lisa edged towards the pool. "What am I looking at?"

"See the bottom of the pool? Notice any of them pink flowers in it?"

"No." She leaned a little closer. "Not at all."

"Good." He gave her a shove.

"Ack!"

**SPLASH**

"Ranma!" gasped Akane.

Shampoo merely giggled.

Lisa surfaced, sputtering water, and turned towards Ranma, fists raised. "Saotome, I'm gonna--" She paused. "Hey...I'm still me!"

"Yep. No flower, no curse. It's only the pools with the flowers in 'em that have an active curse. There's even one with a flower, but no curse, 'cause nobody's drowned in it yet." He knelt down by the pool, and plucked one of the Flowers of Life. "The secret's in the Flower. This flower is what let the Leader transform her people. It's what goes into Reflex cells, and gives 'em the abilities they have. Including transforming our Valkyries. I guess the sap or somethin' gets in the water, and because the water's cold, and when something sufficiently large drowns in it - there's no spring of drowned fruit flies...Well, maybe they leave a DNA print or somethin' on it." He chuckled. "I'm startin' to sound like Doctor Egghead on the ship. I've been thinkin' about this way too much over the last coupla years."

Lisa climbed out of the pool. "You could have explained that without tossing me in the pool."

"I know. But, I figured a demonstration was better 'n a thousand words."

* * *

"We are here for five days, to establish a diplomatic mission and to pave the way for the real diplomats. After that, we return to the ship." Lisa sighed. "If I take you with us, you're in for a real paper-shuffle. So if you want, I can leave you here."

"Are you nuts?" Ranma shook his head. "I've learned a few other things on my trip here. Things I ain't told you yet, and ain't gonna. But there's things I gotta do on the ship. Like pummel my pop."

Lisa grinned. "All right. I can get some of the paperwork out of the way before we arrive. But there's one thing I need to do."

"What's that?"

"I need to congratulate you on your promotion...Major."

"Major? ME?" Ranma laughed. "That's a good one. They told me that Akane would make Major before me."

"Well..." She smiled. "When you were declared dead, they gave you a posthumous promotion. And they can't really take it back just because you were inconsiderate enough to be not dead."

"Crap." Ranma shook his head. "That means I'm out of uniform..."

"Sorry, I don't have an oak leaf with me."

"They also broke up the Irregulars."

Ranma sighed. "Figures. Every time I get a command fully broken in, they decommission it."

"Don't worry just yet, Ranma." Lisa grinned. "Your days as a Squadron Commander are far from over. I have plans for you just yet."


	34. 63: Fulcrum

**FULCRUM**

Ranma stepped forward and saluted crisply. "Major Saotome, reporting in, Captain."

There was a moment of dead silence, broken as Global's pipe fell from his suddenly gaping jaw and clattered to the deck. The Bridge Bunnies jumped up, but made not a sound.

Global coughed, and returned Ranma's salute. "Major. You look well."

"Especially for a dead man, huh?" Ranma dropped the salute and grinned. "Commander Hayes has my after-action report, sir."

"I'm certain it will make for interesting reading." Global took a step forward, the expression on his face clearly stating that he was having difficulty believing that the man standing in front of him was, in fact, standing in front of him. "I'll look it over later. For the moment, please, can you give me the highlights?"

"Yes, sir. When I folded the reactor away from the Armour unit, I found myself in deep space. I folded again, just before the reactor completed its own fold, and found myself on Earth." Ranma grinned. "It was pure luck that I ended up near where your diplomatic party was bound."

"Ah." Global nodded. "Well, welcome home, Major. I am sorry to report that your unit was broken up."

"I heard."

"Please report to the Detailer for assignment. After that, I will need you to report to Dr. Lang."

Ranma sighed. "Aye, sir."

* * *

The White Dragon was buzzing with gossip. Ranma noted with interest that only some of it concerned him.

He dropped into his normal seat at the Skull's table. Rick looked up from his Moo Goo Gai Pan and reached a hand towards him. "Welcome home, Captain." His eyes flicked over to the shiny new oak leaf on Ranma's collar. "I mean, Major. Congratulations."

Ranma grinned, and grabbed his hand. "Good to be home, Lieutenant. I see you got your silver bar."

Rick nodded. "Yep. Got your new orders yet?"

"Yeah." There was distaste in Ranma's voice. "The Detailer decided that since I was now a Major, I should act like one."

"Oh?"

"They gave me Sixth Battalion."

Ricks eyes shot up. "My old outfit is in Sixth."

"Yeah." Ranma flipped open his file folder. "So's my first command, Green. I also have Blue, Sepia, Angel and Firefly."

"Firefly's a training Squadron."

"Yeah, but administratively, they belong to me." He grinned. "Some familiar faces in here. Amy Clark was my Two-Eye-Cee in the Irregulars; glad they've made her CO of the Angels."

"Counting yourself, there's only five Fallen Angels left."

"I heard." He sighed.

Rick took a swig of coffee, then asked, "Why'd they give you Sixth anyway? I though Maistroff had that job."

"Well, with him being pushed over to the Vengeance--"

"Saotome."

Ranma looked up in surprise, to see Lin Kyle glowering at him.

"Oh, this I need." He sighed, and stood. "What do you want, Kyle?"

"Minmei took your reported death most poorly. She has formed an attachment of sorts to you. I won't see her hurt by a soldier." He cracked his knuckles. "Stay away from her."

"Look, Kyle, this is the least of your worries, okay?" Ranma raised his hands. "I've got a fiancéealready, and Minmei's only sixteen. I've got no plans to--"

"Ranma!"

Ranma found himself suddenly unable to breathe, due to there being fifty kilos of idol singer wrapped around his neck. _I thought the Amazons had a trademark on that sort of glomp!_

Kyle's face turned ugly, and he raised a fist. Ranma realized that there was no way he could avoid a punch without endangering Minmei. He managed to gasp out, "No--"

A petite fist, with the strength of welded Zortrium, closed around Kyle's wrist. Akane pulled Kyle back effortlessly, and glowered at him. "This is my fiance you're about to pummel. That's my job." She released him, and turned a steely eye on Ranma. "Back less than an hour, and you're already picking up women?"

"It's not what it looks like!"

Minmei released him, and he drew in a shuddering breath. Akane stepped forward, and grabbed his tunic. "You and I are gonna have a talk, mister."

She dragged him out of the restaurant, and around the corner into the alleyway, then threw him up against the wall.

"Akane--"

"Sorry, sir." She grinned impishly. "It was the fastest way to get you out of there that I could think of."

Ranma straightened his uniform. "Is that what that was?"

Akane chuckled. "I know you've got no interest in Minmei." She sobered. "But it looks like she may have an interest in you."

"I kinda guessed that. She did the same thing to Rick when he was MIA."

"Major."

Ranma turned, to see Miriya approaching, flanked by Max and Ryouga. "Yo, Miriya."

Akane mock-scowled. "I just pulled you away from one--"

Miriya smirked. "Never fear, Lieutenant. I already have two prospective mates."

Max and Ryouga both flushed.

"Besides," she continued, "Your Major has never properly defeated me."

"Thanks." Ranma snorted. "So what's up, Miriya?"

"First, I wish to congratulate you on your promotion and assignment."

"Thanks. They stuck you in Angel, didn't they?"

"Yes." Her smile turned predatory. "Captain Clark defeated fifteen Quadranos during her time in that Squadron, as well as nine more while in the Irregulars. She is a worthy Commander.

"However, I am here on others' business." Her expression became serious. "Lady Azonia of the Quadranos wishes to meet with you, in your female form."

* * *

"So you are the commander of the Micronian She-Demons."

Ranma tugged at her uniform collar. "Not anymore. They broke up the unit after Khyron chewed us up, and when they reformed it, they put another girl in charge. Captain Clark."

Azonia nodded. "I have heard such. But I have also heard that it was you who captured the Gerikai."

"Yeah." Ranma nodded. "My Squadron of the time. They broke up that unit, too."

"A pity. That is the Squadron that Miriya served with, is it not?"

"Yeah. Now she's an Angel."

Azonia smiled. Unlike Miriya, her smiles were quite warm, though Ranma could still feel the core of ice behind them. She turned, and touched a control.

Ranma walked to the edge of the table - there was no way she could match her for height, even in a Valkyrie - and looked up at the massive holographic display that sprang to life.

"Defold operation?" She scowled. "Looks like a whole hell of a lot of signatures."

"Indeed." Azonia crossed her arms. "It appears to be the entire Dolza Fleet."

"Dolza. Ain't he the leader of the Zentraedi?"

"Yes." She touched another control, and the screen zoomed out. "As you can see, they folded just behind the fourth planet."

"Mars."

"Is that its name?"

"Yeah. Named after an old Earth war god."

Azonia raised an eyebrow, and commented, "Appropriate in this case. The Dolza fleet numbers four million, minus the Botoru Battalion of fifty thousand ships. And many of the Botoru - mainly elements of the Fifth - are missing or destroyed. Add the fifty thousand of the Quadrano, and you are still outnumbered four hundred to one."

"Yikes."

"Indeed." She shut down the projector. "Luckily for you, I have a destroyer in stealth mode picketing the system; they detected the defold. You will have perhaps one hundred and fifty kilopulses before they arrive."

Ranma did the math in her head. "Nine of our days."

"Exactly. How do you plan to defeat them?"

"Why you asking me?" Ranma tilted her head. "I'm just a major, in command of six Squadrons. Shouldn't--"

"Six squadrons, indeed." Azonia began ticking them off on her fingers. "Green. Many successes against the Botoru. Firefly. More female pilots--"

"That's a training squadron."

"Blue. Commanded by one who may as well be Quadrano. We know Lieutenant Tendo quite well. Sepia. Defeated the Quadrano at the seventh planet."

"I wasn't commanding--"

"Vermilion. The first unit to successfully infiltrate a Zentraedi warship. And finally. Angel. About whom nothing need be said." She crossed her arms. "In short, Major, you command six of the seven units of your armed forces to have any success against the Zentraedi or Meltraedi."

"Okay, I can see your point." Ranma sighed. "But four hundred to one odds..."

* * *

"She's in prime condition." Ryouga flipped the chart shut. "We salvaged her from the Armour, put a new surface on her--"

"Still that black and red paint job?"

"Yep." He smirked. "You're Ace of Aces now."

"Yay." Ranma scowled. "You tryin' to get me killed off?"

"No. I want to do that myself." He grinned, then flipped the chart open. "Anyway, we couldn't find the gun pod."

"That's because it's floating off into deep space."

"Okay. Anyway, we modified a housing of a GU-12 to take a different gun. We didn't have any more of the 12, because you keep wrecking them, so we installed a 966-PFG cannon in the housing. The muzzle protrudes somewhat."

Ranma sat bolt upright. "Just a bit, huh? The 966 is twice the length of a GU-12!"

"We had to extend the housing. We put a fore-grip on it, so you'd use it like a squad assault weapon." He glanced down at his notes. "Four hundred rounds each clip, rate of fire fifteen hundred rounds per minute."

"Ryouga..." Ranma sighed. "Why didn't you just fetch up a standard GU-11 for my jet? We've still got lots."

Ryouga looked abashed. "I...couldn't find the armoury." He brightened. "But anyway. Miriya and I were going to go clubbing tonight. Do you and Lieutenant Tendo want to join us?"

"Wish I could. But I've got a senior officer's briefing."

* * *

"Ranma, my boy!" Soun pulled Ranma into a bear hug. "Good to see you, lad!"

Ranma grinned. He rather liked old man Tendo, despite his eccentricities. "Good to see you too, Colonel."

"Have you and Akane set a date yet?"

Ranma rolled his eyes. "Not yet, sir. Kinda waitin' for the war to end."

"Live a little! You've got to grab life by the horns, wring every moment--"

"Sure." Ranma turned and poured himself a cup of coffee. "Heard it before, sir." He turned back, and blinked.

The man entering the room with Captain Gloval was clearly not human. His skin was a pasty grey, and his hair almost as red as that of Ranma's female form. The U.N. Spacy uniform he wore fit poorly, and had been quickly hemmed to his four-foot stature. The gnomish little man crossed the room quickly, and held out a hand to Ranma.

"I am told that this is how you greet each other?"

Ranma grinned. "Yeah, some of us do it that way." He clasped the Zentraedi's hand. "Major Saotome."

"Of course." The little Zentraedi pumped his hand enthusiastically. "I am Exedore, chief archivist of the Botoru Battalion." He released Ranma's hand, and looked down at the cup. "Is that coffee?"

"Yeah."

"May I?"

Ranma shrugged. "It ain't mine."

"Thank you." Exedore took the cup from Ranma's hand. "I have so wanted to try this, ever since the spies reported back in."

Ranma chuckled, and poured a second cup. "You seem to know me, but I'm pretty sure I haven't met you. Think I'd remember."

"Ah, your name has become famous, I assure you." Exedore sipped the coffee, and practically wriggled with delight. "I see why you drink this. As I was saying, our spies told us much about you, that you were a great warrior and could even defeat a Meltraedi in hand-to-hand combat."

"I don't think that--"

"Also, they said that your...wife?"

"Fiancée."

"Your fiancéehelped them out when they were still trying to adjust to your culture."

Ranma's eyes shot up. "Really. Can't wait to tell her that." He glanced around the room, then in a lower voice added, "I'd appreciate if you didn't let that get around though. Might get her in trouble."

"Not a problem, not a problem at all."

Gloval's voice rang over the buzz of conversation in the briefing room. "Ladies and gentlemen, if you would be seated?"

The briefing room quieted, and people quickly moved to find seats. Ranma found himself sitting between Exedore and Colonel Oakeshott, CAG of Prometheus.

"Thank you. Major Saotome, could you please brief us in?"

"Aye, sir." Ranma stood, and activated his remote.

"At 1100 hours today, I met with Azonia, commander of the Meltraedi Quadrano Battalion, at her request. She gave me the footage that you can see on the main display.

"A significant force of Zentraedi warships has defolded in Sol space, and are currently moving to intercept the Earth. According to Azonia's sensor logs, the defold numbers three point nine million ships."

This caused a considerable buzz of conversation; Ranma waited for them to finish.

"At this time, Azonia has committed the Quadrano Battalion to the defense of Earth. In addition, Armours Two and Eight stand by, armed with reactive warhead missiles and Reflex cannon. _Persephone_, _Artemis_ and _Diana_ are also standing by, but they lack Reflex weaponry, and have only nine reactive warheads each."

"Major, if I may." Exedore stood, and addressed the briefing. "My Lord Breetai wishes to state, through me, that the Botoru Battalion, with the exception of the Fifth, stands ready to defend the Earth as well. Fifth Botoru has elected to neither aid nor hinder, and is withdrawing from Earth space. However, their ships only number one hundred, and as such, do not significantly alter our combat ability."

"Thank you, Exedore." Gloval was packing his pipe. "Major, please continue."

Ranma cleared his throat. "Commander Azonia has requested that Sixth Combat Air Battalion spearhead the defense of Earth. Unfortunately, while I am flattered by her confidence in my command, I have to say that the odds look pretty bleak."

"Four hundred to one bleak." This was muttered by Oakeshott.

Gloval stuck his pipe between his teeth, and nodded.

Commander Hayes spoke up. "Exedore, can you tell us anything that may help us in this fight?"

"I can think of a few things. First, you must understand the chaos that you people have caused within our ranks."

Global's eyebrows shot up, and he pulled the pipe from his mouth. "In what way?"

"The Zentraedi are, as a people, governed by our Imperative. It is our way of life, similar to your culture." Exedore looked down at his hands. "But while your people enjoy your culture, it has only become apparent recently that our Imperative is...not in our best interest. It is a relic, left over from the days of the Protoculture.

"When our spies returned, they had brought a few artifacts from your city. But they also brought stories, of males and females living together, of choices in rations, of lives that were not endless battles. They told their stories to any who would listen, and the stories spread throughout the Battalion. Similarly, Azonia kept the largest portion of artifacts for herself, and their effect on her people has been just as widespread.

"Our soldiers, for quite a bit of time, lost their will to fight. It was only when they were told that your world, your culture, was endangered, that many of them again took up arms.

He looked up again. "But the one factor of your culture that hit our people the hardest, and the fastest, was music."

"Music."

"Yes, Captain. Initial exposure to music left us weakened, shaken, even nauseous."

Dr. Lang nodded. "Of course. Music is unknown in the Imperative, and would stir up emotions that run counter to it. Your reactions are those of people whose life-long conditioning is suddenly shattered."

"Precisely." Exedore grinned. "My midday meal did not sit well when I first heard your music. But, now, I quite enjoy it. It merely takes time." He sobered. "But Dolza's soldiers will not have that time. Their Imperative will be broken, and with it, their ability to fight."

Ranma shrugged. "So we just crank the tunes when we go into battle."

"Music by itself would be effective, yes. But we can sharpen this blade even further." Exedore grinned again. "The first time that our people were exposed to music, it was accompanied by young, beautiful women wearing next to nothing. And one face in particular caught their attention, so much so that your Lt. Hunter was able to overcome three of them in mere seconds."

* * *

"The United Earth Government is determined to use the Grand Cannon." Lisa was stalking the bridge, an angry look on her face. "Admiral Hayes, my father, believes that the Cannon can destroy Dolza's fleet completely."

"I take it you don't agree with him?"

"No, Captain." Lisa shook her head. "Listen, I know you believed my story, but I don't think you really grasp it. Dolza's fleet completely destroyed the surface of an entire planet! They turned the surface into molten glass. The blast craters were big enough that you could fit San Angeles comfortably inside of the smallest. The atmosphere was completely gone, and where there weren't craters, there were cracks in the crust the size of the Grand Canyon!"

"I understand, Lisa."

"You don't really." Lisa shook her head. "Unless you saw it happen, you can't understand at all. Four million ships." She sighed. "If the Cannon knocks down more than a thousand, I'll be very surprised."

* * *

It was a party of three that was chosen to visit the White Dragon. As one of Minmei's friends, it was only logical that Ranma should go to talk to her. With him was Exedore, to represent the Zentraedi, and Shampoo, to represent the Meltraedi.

Ranma glanced around the restaurant. "Yo, Max."

Lin Max looked up from the table he was cleaning. "Ranma! So sorry, but we're closing in five minutes."

"Not a problem. I'm here to see Minmei."

"Uh--"

The kitchen doors swung open, and Lin Kyle stepped out.

Ranma groaned.

"I told you to stay away, Saotome."

Ranma walked forward, and scowled at the taller man. "Look, Kyle. I ain't here to hurt her, okay. I ain't here to date her, ask her out, break her arm, or anythin' else you might be worried about. But I need to see her."

"Tell me what you want, and I'll decide if she needs to hear it."

"You her keeper?" Ranma's scowl deepened. "I've about had enough of your crap, pal. Now, I gotta talk to her, because there's four million alien ships comin' to turn the Earth into a cinder, and she can stop them."

"I doubt that."

"You should believe the Major." Exedore nodded. "Maybe she's not the only one who can stop them, but I believe that she has the best chance."

"You listen to Ranma." Shampoo felt the need to put her two cents in. "Minmei win contest, because she good singer. Music stop Zentraedi."

Kyle glanced at the two in turn, then back to Ranma. "You feel the need to trot aliens in here to convince me to let you corrupt her?"

"Ah, screw this." He stepped around Kyle, and moved towards the stairs. His danger sense pinged, and he leaned to the side, to see a fist pass his nose by millimeters.

"I told you--"

"Bad move, pal." Ranma spun, and launched a kick at Kyle's head. Kyle parried with a flick of the wrist, and launched a two-punch combo at Ranma's head. Ranma dodged the punches, then snapped through a clean Mantis kick, catching Kyle squarely on the chin. The taller martial artist fell backward, dizzied, and Ranma leapt forward, snapping him up in a cradle hold.

"You listen to me, you piece of shit." Ranma's frown was deep enough to run a river through. "Attack me again, and I will cause you some serious harm. Okay? You might have trained in Anything Goes, but you ain't in my league." He released Kyle, and stepped back. "Lay there and think about it."

He turned back to Shampoo and Exedore. "Let's go talk to the girl, ne?"

"Ranma."

The Major glanced over his shoulder; Max was hustling up to him.

"Yo, Max. I've been meanin' to ask you. Did you train this dirtball?"

Max caught Ranma's hand. Ranma was surprised; there was considerable strength in his grip.

"You trained in Anything Goes?" Max's eyes were wide. "Under Master Happousai?"

"No, my father did. He trained me." Ranma looked at the pudgy little cook. "You really trained with them?"

"I did, yes. It was so long ago, I never remembered your father. Not until I saw that hold." Max released Ranma's hand. "The Master refused to train me any further, because of my Chinese blood."

"Racist?"

"Perhaps. But I think it was because of my father." He nodded towards Shampoo. "The Master hated the Amazons. My father escaped, with me and my little brother, from her village."

Ranma's eyes shot up. "You're an Amazon?"

He shook his head. "I was raised in the People's Republic, not the village. And he was Han, but captured by their warriors. He had to kill my mother to get away. I remember. I was only four, but I remember it happening."

"Your brother--"

"Minmei's father."

"Wow." Ranma looked down, at the still prone and scowling Lin Kyle. "We really gotta talk to Minmei, now."

Exedore looked puzzled. "But why?"

Ranma sighed, and turned towards the stairs again. "Because she's really the only thing that can stop Dolza's fleet.

"She's of the Protoculture."


	35. 64: Holocaust

**HOLOCAUST**

"Officer on the deck."

"As you were." Ranma grinned. Every person save one in the briefing compartment was an officer. But he was the Old Man. That made all the difference.

Old man. At twenty years old chronologically, twenty-two subjectively, and "Man" being a matter of timing, the description was at best tenuous.

He glanced around the faces of his newest command. To his immediate left was Akane, now a Captain and fully confirmed as CO of Blue, and her second, Lieutenant Makharov. Past Akane was CO of Green, Captain Peter Lee Jackson, and his current XO, Alice Phillips. Ranma had flown with Jackson as part of Skull, back on Macross Island. Of the Skull's three Flight Leaders from those early days, Jackson was the only one left alive; Roy and Mark had been shot down by Miriya Parino.

Furthest from Ranma on the left was the CO of Firefly, Major Kosuji. As a Fallen Angel - one of only five, according to Hunter, and four of them were in this room - she was a perfect choice to head the all-female cadre. She had no XO in tow; her command did not require such.

Across from Kosuji, Captain Robert Taggart sat, a lit cigar clamped in his mouth in defiance of all regulations. Taggart had been given Sepia shortly after Soun Tendo had been handed the Daedalus air group. Ranma knew nothing about the man except for what was in his dossier, which described a competent if uninspiring officer. He had no official XO at the moment, the unfortunate Lt. Cook having smacked into a meteor during a routine patrol; one of his sergeants, Lawrence Todd, was sitting in as XO.

On Ranma's immediate right was Amy Clark, the fourth of the Fallen Angels present. No longer fallen, Amy now headed up the revived Angel Squadron, with a promotion to Captain and a fistful of chicken guts. Ranma's ribbons had been considerably sparser when he'd been handed the Angels; among Clark's decorations were Courage Under Fire, the Medal of Valour (Gold) and the Ace of Aces ribbon. With her was Lieutenant Holly Logan, Angel's XO.

And sandwiched between Clark and Taggart was a young 2nd Lieutenant by the name of Stuart Evans. Evans' dossier was very light; he'd come up in Diamondback, and been transferred to head up the new Vermilion Squadron. As the most junior of Ranma's officers, he would end up taking all the "George" jobs that the Battalion needed doing. Evans also had no XO with him.

Ranma crossed over to the credenza, and poured himself a cup of coffee. Rather than take his seat at the table, he leaned against the credenza.

"Evans. You got an XO?"

The Lieutenant hopped to his feet. "Beg pardon, sir. My Squadron is not yet fully assembled; we only have one Flight."

"Okay, fair enough." He sipped the coffee. "How soon will you be operational?"

"Mad Hatters is graduating next week, and I've been assured by the Detailer that six of them are coming here. I've also requested that Major Kosuji transfer a Firefly Flight to my command, when they graduate."

Ranma glanced over to Kosuji. "Minato?"

"As good as done. The Detailer just wants the Colonel to put the final approval on it."

"I'll talk to him." Ranma sighed. "Captain Taggart?"

"Aye, Major."

"I note that you have Sergeant Todd here as your XO."

Taggart nodded. "Aye. The paperwork will be on your desk by the end of this brief."

"Good enough.

"For those of you not in the know, we have an entire Zentraedi fleet bearing down on Earth. We've got eight days before they reach us, and turn Earth into a cinder. If you doubt this, consider: They have eight hundred task groups the size of Breetai's.

"Captain Gloval wanted to intercept them, but he's been overruled. We're gonna have to fight them in orbit around the Earth."

He waited out the babble of overlapping voices, then continued. "Luckily, Earth ain't been idle in the time we were gone. They've built three more factories, and produced a hell of a lot of Valkyries. We've been fully reinforced with jets, mostly J- and S-Types. For the first time, this ship has a full complement. When Vermilion is fully up to strength, we'll have a hundred and eight effectives, and another thirty-six in the pool. A total of just over a thousand Valkyries. When we left Earth, we had nine hundred and sixty Valks, and were down to only a hundred and seventy or so by the time we got back."

"Sir?"

"Yes, Logan?"

"Even a thousand Valkyries isn't enough to stop the fleet. Right?"

"That is correct." Ranma sighed. "We're gonna have the Quadranos and Botorus fighting with us as well. Their idea of a Battalion is about four hundred mecha, and they have a total of one hundred and thirty Battalions. Fifty thousand or so mecha, about half of them Amazon Power Armour. Plus about a hundred thousand warships of various sorts."

"More warships than mecha?"

"Many of their warships are cruisers, which apparently do not carry mecha complements. Their destroyers usually only have a few.

"The brass back dirtside figure they can whittle down the size of Dolza's fleet using ground fire. But we're still gonna be massively outnumbered."

"Well, that's just fucking stupid."

Ranma blinked. "Sorry, Captain?"

Taggart pulled his cigar out of his mouth. "Problem with ground fire is it's stationary. Once the bad guys figure out where the guns are, they simply blow them away. A planet can't dodge."

Ranma nodded. "That was also my assessment, though I would have put it less...colourfully."

Chuckles ran around the room. Taggart grinned.

"Luckily," Ranma continued, "we have another ace up our sleeve."

* * *

"I cannot allow this to happen!"

Gloval's teeth were clamped down on the stem of his pipe hard enough to make the plastic creak ominously. "Mr. Lin, I have been more than patient with you. I have allowed you to sow dissent among the civilian population of this ship. I have even overlooked your altercations with the men under my command. But you are quite far out of line. The middle of my bridge is not the place to discuss this."

Lin Kyle seemed to be ignorant of the growing fury on the Captain's face, or the looks of disgust on the faces of the five women who shared the bridge with the Captain. "You are trying to turn Minmei to destructive ends! She's a singer, not a weapon!"

"At the moment, she's both. And we need her." Gloval's hand swept towards the viewscreen. "Four million warships! More than a third of them larger than the Macross. All of them bearing down on Earth!"

"Military propaganda," sneered Kyle. "Everyone aboard knows that you exaggerated the size of that fleet."

Minmei laid a hand on her cousin's arm. "Kyle, it's all right. I want to help."

"It is not at all right." Kyle shook his arm free. "I will not let you get involved with this. Do you really want to end up a pawn to the military?"

"They're gonna kill everyone on Earth!" Minmei's voice came up in pitch. "Mom and Dad are still in Yokohama, and there's a spaceport there. You know it'll get hit!"

"Did you even listen to what your Soldier Boy said? You do this, and you'll be helping to kill your own people!"

There was a stunned silence.

Lisa Hayes cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. Maybe I didn't quite hear that?"

Minmei looked down at her clasped hands. "My father's mother was an Amazon. Ranma told me that they're the same people as the Zentraedi. So I'm..."

"Exedore was right." Lisa shook her head in wonder. "You are the only one who can do this."

"It's not right!" For want of a table, Kyle smashed a fist down on the back of the Captain's chair. "The military has been ordering the civilian population around ever since this so-called 'crisis', and now--"

"Why am I even arguing with you?" Gloval turned to his Communications Officer. "Lieutenant Grant. Please call Chief Briggs to the bridge. Tell him to bring his sidearm."

"Already done, sir."

Gloval turned to the irate Kyle. "You have had your say. It means little to me. A security officer will be here momentarily to escort you to your designated shelter." He took a step closer, towering over the young rabble-rouser. "I know of your martial arts training. I assure you, Chief Briggs is more than a match for you."

Kyle smirked, and cracked his knuckles. "Good enough to--"

The howl of a stunner cut him off, and Kyle's expression turned from smirk to shock. He crumpled bonelessly to the ground. Behind him, Chief Briggs holstered his stun pistol. "Brig, sir?"

"It would take a week to clear out the stench." Gloval turned back to his tactical display. "The nearest shelter should be sufficient."

* * *

The combined might of Sixth Combat Air Battalion - thirteen Flights, seventy-eight mecha - closed up in formation. Ranma checked his Tactical; Skull was off to port about five thousand kilometers, the nearest of First Battalion's Squadrons. To starboard, about the same distance, was Apollo Squadron, from Colonel Tendo's Third Battalion. "Six-six. Squadrons, report in."

There was a pause, as the various Squadron COs consulted their Flights. Then, "Blue Squadron, ready."

"Vermilion, standing by."

"Green Squadron, check."

"Sepia, ready to rumble."

"Angel Squadron, standing by."

The cross-feeds popped up in Tactical, and Ranma nodded; except for the understrength Vermilion, everything looked good. He cross-referenced all listed failures against his master list - no surprises - and clicked to the Macross Tactical Frequency.

"Sixth Battalion, Macross. Report all Squadrons ready."

"Macross, Sixth. Good hunting."

Ranma tapped the Tac computer again, tied into the Divisional Tac Net. All three of the Macross' Combat Air Wings - a total of six hundred thirty-six Valkyries and Rapiers - were coming up green. It could have been more. For this fight, Ranma would prefer to have the cadre Squadrons up, as well.

_After all, if we lose, we got nothin' to come back to, anyway._

* * *

"Captain, Lagrange Two reports radar contact with incoming hostiles." Claudia tapped a console control, brought up the waystation's Tactical plot. "They are cross-linking tactical data."

Gloval scowled at the screen. "Ten thousand warships?"

"L2 reports all fighters away, and they are launching anti-ship reaction missiles in full automatic."

The Tactical Plot showed more than a minute to impact. Gloval turned to Lisa and Minmei.

"Ladies, I am afraid that you are away from your posts. Action stations, please."

Lisa saluted. "Aye, sir." She turned to Minmei. "The Star Bowl."

Gloval turned back to the Tactical plot. "Only ten thousand. Where are the rest?"

"Tactical plot from Second Botoru." A second screen sprang to life. "The bulk of the Dolza Fleet is clearing the far side of the moon."

* * *

Deep within a command bunker in Alaska, Admiral Robert Hayes eyed the Tactical.

"How long to full weapon charge?"

"Three more minutes, sir."

"Is Macross remaining outside our cone of fire?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." He tapped a control, frowned at the change in data. "At most, sixty percent of their fleet will be within arc for our first shot." He pulled a stylus from his jacket pocket, dragged it across the screen. "Make your firing pattern so, and initiate immediate switch to bank two for the follow-up. Use the emergency coolant; I want the second salvo up as soon as humanly possible."

* * *

Space filled with the brilliant glare of nuclear warheads, and in an instant, five thousand warships ceased to exist. A whoop of victory went through the bridge, but Gloval merely waited.

The Zentraedi's return salvo was deadly, accurate, and merciless.

Claudia's voice was broken as she reported, "Lagrange Two destroyed, sir."

"Understood." Gloval stood. "All compartments, confirm readiness for cruise operation."

"Subluminal drives report ready."

"Barrier field reports fully charged, and in pin-point mode."

"Main gun reports fully charged, but not yet available."

"Secondary batteries report fully charged, manned and ready."

"Cavalry Squadrons massed at Daedalus, and report readiness."

"Thank you. Kim, plot an intercept course to the main fleet."

* * *

"Macross reports readiness to maneuver, Admiral."

Hayes nodded. "Let me know if they leave station."

"Admiral! The target fleet is changing course!"

"Damn." The Admiral scowled. "Are they moving out of our firing cone?"

"Yes, sir."

"Damn, damn, damn...Targeting, start your plot."

"Aye, sir."

Hayes pulled a cigar out of his breast pocket, and stuck it between his teeth.

"Sir, I have a firing solution."

Hayes grinned. "You may fire at your discretion."

* * *

A brilliant blast of energy leaped from the planet, and stabbed through the enemy fleet.

Gloval stared through the transparent aluminum. "_Solkyn syn..._"

"Got that right, sir. Looks like it works after all." Claudia shook her head.

The Tactical plot changed rapidly, as ship after ship was wiped from the skies by the massive tongue of blue flame. Five seconds of continuous power cut like a knife through the fleet. When the beam subsided, many secondary explosions, caused by the detonations of the larger ships, continued to ripple through the enemy forces.

"I'd say that shot cost them almost a million ships, sir." Claudia frowned, and rotated her plot. "They're scattering, though; if that gun has a second chamber, it's gonna have a hard time doing it again."

"Did they nail the flagship?"

"No, sir; it was out of arc. However, they killed seventeen command cruisers, and that's gonna leave many of their forces out of the command loop."

Gloval turned. "Sammy, download your plot from Kim and engage subluminal drive. Claudia, inform Alaska Base of our intent to engage."

"Sir, our orders--"

"The man who gave us those orders is about to die. He can court-martial me later." Gloval sat back down in his command chair, and sighed.

* * *

Hayes stared at the target plot.

"There's still a hell of a lot of them, sir."

"I see that, Colonel." He turned. "Captain, report."

"Emergency cooling in progress, sir, but I'm showing signs of damage to the barrel. I can give you one more shot, but cannot guarantee a third."

"Understood." He closed his eyes.

_I'm sorry, Lisa...you were right._

* * *

Five hundred thousand ships, a full combat detachment, arrowed in on an attack vector. The remaining vessels in the Dolza Fleet was moving into an encirclement pattern, surrounding the globe.

"We're gonna have hostiles in range in ten minutes, Captain."

"Understood. What's our velocity?"

"Sixteen million meters per second."

"Begin modular transformation."

On the Tactical Plot, the five hundred thousand warships began emptying their missile tubes.

* * *

The deck heaved under Chief Brigg's feet, and he nearly dropped his load. He set the unconscious Kyle down, and braced himself.

Kyle's eyes snapped open, and he whirled through a foot sweep, knocking Briggs to the deck. He rolled to his feet, and with a quick snap-punch, knocked the Chief unconscious.

* * *

"Incoming vampires! The count is way off the limits, sir!"

"Understood. Guns?"

"Second battery online in ten seconds, sir. First is recharging now."

"It's not going to matter. Maximum dispersal, try to get as many of those missiles as you can. If you get the attacking ships as well, good." Hayes' hand covered the all-call button. "Fire."

* * *

A second blast rose from the planet, this time in a wider cone. Most of the incoming missiles were destroyed, and the bulk of the lighter ships had their hulls stripped away like banana skins. But the larger ships sailed through the plasma storm, and began firing guns.

* * *

Hayes depressed the all-call button. "Abandon the base. Get as far away as you can, as fast as you can. All hands, abandon base."

The control crew abandoned their stations and made for the exit. The Gunnery Captain grabbed the Admiral's arm.

"Sir, you have to--"

"No." Hayes shook his head. "I've failed my mission. If I'd listened to my betters, this might have turned out differently." He pulled the Captain's hand away from his arm. "Get out of here. That's an order."

The Captain paused. "Sir, as you have given the order to abandon this base, you are no longer its commander."

"I still outrank you."

"As I have not abandoned my post, I would now be the superior officer of this installation."

"Dammit, Frank, you're splitting hairs."

"Admiral, don't make me draw my sidearm."

Hayes stared at the Captain. "You'd..."

"Aye, sir." He pulled the Admiral to his feet. "Let's get to a jet, sir."

* * *

The Star Bowl's holographic video suite had been slaved to a tactical display; it now showed the progress of the battle. Lisa watched in horror as the Zentraedi fleet opened up with beam cannon. Over the entire surface of the planet, cities were smashed from orbit by the massed firepower of three million warships.

"No..." Minmei's gasp was one of pure horror. "My family is in Yokohama!"

"Minmei--"

"You don't understand! My mother and father are dead!"

"I do understand." Lisa pointed out the glowing ember that had been Elmendorf. "My father was there. He just gave his life to defend this planet!"

"Your father..."

"He was in command of that facility. The Grand Cannon." Lisa looked down. "He did what he could to protect Earth. Now we have to do what we can."

She turned to Minmei. "Get ready. Your audience is waiting."

Her eyes were wet with tears that she would not allow to fall.

* * *

Ranma's horror was no less than Minmei's.

"Those bastards!" He shifted to female form, and tapped into his ship's Reflex furnaces. "Sixth, stand by for space fold."

The Tac Freak chirped, and Lieutenant Grant appeared on his left-hand screen.

"Major Saotome, begin Schedule Trap-Door."

"Aye, aye, ma'am."

She closed her eyes, and wished her entire Battalion into the midst of the oncoming fleet.

* * *

"**My Lord! Incoming space folds!**"

"**How many?**"

"**Seventy or more! Defold in thirty centipulses!**"

"**Seventy warships? That won't make much of a difference.**" Dolza leaned back. "**The enemy is vastly outnumbered.**"

"**Not warships, sir. Mecha!**"

"**...Mecha? They folded** _mecha?_"

* * *

Throughout the Dolza fleet, the pinpoint flares of defolds marked the appearances of the seventy-eight mecha of the Sixth Battalion. Scattered around the globe, each had nearly forty thousand ships within reach of their missiles, and only six missiles each.

But their targets had been chosen with great care.

Amy Clark firewalled her Valkyrie's engines, and dove towards the massive battlecruiser. Its anti-ship guns were pumping salvo after salvo in her general direction, but those batteries were designed to engage much larger targets than her fighter. It was simplicity itself to avoid their fire.

She smirked. _Great warriors, my ass._

Her computer bleeped as she reached breakaway range, and she thumbed the weapon release button. The ejectors kicked the GH-45 Jackal missile away from its pylon, and it screamed towards the ship. She yanked on the pole, flipping her bird end for end, and started burning away as fast as she could.

The Zentraedi point-defense guns opened up on the missile, but its computer brain could perceive incoming fire and dodge it faster than the sentient brains manning the guns could compensate. Not a single blast came close, and the weapon bored in relentlessly, a mindless robot with only one task in life: Get within one thousand meters.

Clark's computers went haywire as the missile's ten-kiloton warhead detonated, the massive electromagnetic pulse scrambling its hardened circuits, but not destroying them. The Zentraedi ship was not so lucky; lacking experience dealing with nuclear weapons, the Zentraedi shipbuilders had not hardened their components, nor installed the reflex armour needed to turn aside the massive burst of gamma radiation that peeled the hull away from its stays. The battlecruiser's powerplant lost containment, its auto-scram circuits as fried as every other piece of silicon aboard, and the fusion reaction burning inside the plant burst from its torus, filling the entire ship with burning plasma.

Amy glanced into her rear-view mirror as she sped away from the crippled, burning wreck.

_Five missiles left._

* * *

"Enemy ConCom in disarray, sir. We've hit nearly eighty percent of their command ships."

"Radio and microwave frequencies jammed across the board. We are out of communication with the rest of the fleet."

"Modular transformation complete, and we are on secondary subluminal drive. Delta-V is six hundred meters per second squared."

"Excellent." Gloval grinned around the stem of his pipe. "Bring the main gun into firing position."

"Sir!" Grant turned from her station.

"Yes, Claudia?"

"Sixth Battalion is still among the enemy fleet! With radio communications jammed, we can't warn them!"

Gloval smashed his fist down on the console. "Dammit! Time to accelerate our plans.

"Contact the Star Bowl, and tell Commander Hayes to begin Schedule Minmei!"


	36. 65: Mutiny

* * *

**Mutiny**

Ranma tapped the Tac Net. "Position check, all Flights." She waited until he had sufficient reports on his screen, then tapped a waypoint into her nav computer and uploaded it to the Net. "Angels Flight One and Three, and Blue Flight One, rendezvous at this point."

"Angel Lead, Aye."

"Blue Lead, Hai."

It would take a few minutes. The fighters were scattered all through the enemy fleet. Ranma tapped the Tac Net again. "Six-Six to Macross."

Claudia's face appeared on the com screen. "Macross. Report, Major?"

"All nukes expended. You should be able to see the results on your tactical display."

"Yes, they seem to be in considerable disarray." She grinned. "We're having a bit of a slow start at the moment. To compensate, the _Vengeance_ is being dispatched to capture a Zentraedi Command Cruiser."

Ranma blinked. "Ah...Ma'am, the _Vengeance_ is just a destroyer. Will she pack enough firepower to capture a Command Cruiser?"

"She's been fully loaded with Destroids, and the Zentraedi Command Cruisers carry few Mecha. You are to escort her, and provide assistance during the boarding action."

"Yes, Ma'am." She tapped the Tac Net again. "Angel Lead, Blue Lead. We're playin' escort duty. I'm designating this temporary Squadron Web." She considered. "Lieutenant Parino, you are Web Lead."

"Understood, Major."

"Nay, this is not acceptable!" The Squadron Net blinked, and a familiar pair of arrogant eyes appeared. "For this Squadron to be led by an alien is not right. Particularly when there are better choices available."

Ranma blinked. "Kuno?" She tapped the commo screen again. "Captain Tendo. Ya never mentioned Kuno in your report."

"Sorry, Ma'am. I figured you only wanted reports on anything that mattered."

"Don't call me 'Ma'am'."

"Surely," continued Kuno, "it would be far more mete for yourself, lovely pigtailed warrior, or for the powerful Tendo Akane, to lead this assault."

Her commo screen was getting crowded. She closed the links to Macross and to Blue Lead. "Listen, Kuno. We're about to invade an alien ship, so I want our resident alien to lead the way. Got it?"

"All due respect, My Lady, but I am forced to agree with Blue Six." Miriya shook her head. "That is not a Meltraedi warship; I doubt I would be of any particular assistance. Captain Clark would be better suited--"

"Captain Clark is ridin' herd on Angel. She'll have her hands full. Same with Captain Tendo." Ranma shook her head. "And before ya mention me, I gotta keep half an eye on the rest of Sixth while they reform. So it's gotta be you."

"I still feel--"

"Miriya, it's an order."

"Yes, My Lady." With Miriya, orders were trump. "Web will form on my lead. I shall upload navigation data in a moment."

Ranma cleared his commo window, then punched up Sepia Lead. "Captain Taggert."

"Aye, Major?"

"I've got a mission for you. Can your outfit still handle Iron Hand?"

He grinned. "We've only got the Scorps left, but all of our units are Jaybirds."

"Excellent." She smirked. "Contact_Vengeance_ for nav data."

* * *

The damage to the Zentraedi communications network was far more extensive, and serious, than the Humans had expected.

Dolza glowered at the dark screens around him. His flagship had not been attacked by the Micronian mecha, but with the disruption of the network, not a single ship was answering telemetry. He turned, scowling, and asked, "How long to restore communications?"

"Perhaps half a megapulse, if we're lucky." The Zentraedi officer was the closest thing to a technician that his people had. "We'd need to figure out what exactly they hit us with first. However, it might not be necessary at the moment." He hesitated.

"Go on."

"Well, My Lord, it should be possible to link up the remaining ships to form a commo net. It will take a kilopulse or so, but we should be able to route links through undamaged ships."

"Get on it."

"Yes, My Lord."

Dolza turned back to the tactical display, as one screen lit up. "What do we have?"

"Botoru Battalion, My Lord." The Zentraedi tapped controls. "Fifth Battalion."

"Breetai."

The screen cleared, to show the cowled face of the Zentraedi Warlord. "Dolza. I hereby order you to stand down your troops and surrender your ships."

"Insolent traitor." Dolza crossed his arms. "You have no right to issue me orders."

"You are wrong. My right is given to me through the Imperative. The Protoculture live!"

Dolza's arms fell loosely to the side. He staggered towards the screen, jaw agape, and gasped, "You lie!"

"No." Breetai smirked. "They are here, on the Earth. And they possess a weapon sufficient to destroy you, and your entire fleet. Obey your Imperative, and surrender."

Dolza chuckled. "Imperative? That might matter to someone younger than me. But I have served the Zentraedi people for over thirty gigapulses."

"You must still obey the Imperative."

"No." He shook his head. "I have been free of the Imperative for twelve gigapulses. Ever since the day I destroyed the last of the Protoculture."

There was a stunned silence.

"You have acted against the Imperative?"

"Of course."

Breetai shook his head. "You have even ordered Zentraedi against the Imperative?"

Dolza smirked. "Easily enough done; the prohibition against Micrones was part of the Imperative, and the Protoculture were, as you have discovered, Micronian."

Breetai cut the link, and Dolza laughed.

"And today, we shall truly destroy the Protoculture for all time!"

* * *

"Signal from Breetai, Captain." Claudia turned to face Gloval. "He's got what we need."

"Good." The captain packed more tobacco into his pipe. "Transmit it to Maistroff, and give signal to begin Phase One of Schedule Minmei."

"Captain!" Sammy jumped to her feet. "No smoking on the bridge!"

Gloval looked up at her, then unrepentantly sparked a match and lit the pipe. Once he had it going, he casually blew a smoke ring at the ceiling. "If we're here in the morning, you can write me up, Sammy."

* * *

"Only two guards." Lin Kyle leaned back. "Think you can fake them out, Jimmy?"

"Gimme the mirror." The mirror in question was a girl's hand mirror, probably one of Minmei's, he mused. Kyle handed it over to him, and he used it to peer around the corner.

"No. Damn. Sergeant Bronson was present all through my court martial." Jimmy leaned back, and handed the mirror back to Kyle. "No way he'll forget that I was drummed out."

"All right. We'll go with Plan B." He tossed the stun pistol to another of his compatriots. "Jacob. Let's go."

Sergeant Bronson looked up as two civilians rounded the corner. "Why aren't you two in shelters?"

"Lost." Kyle scratched the back of his head. "This ship sure is big." He pivoted on the ball of his foot, and his hand snapped out to catch the Sergeant across the bridge of the nose. Bronson crumpled, hands flying to his face, and Kyle put him down with a second chop to the back of the neck. The stunner howled, and the other guard joined his sergeant in an unplanned nap.

The other three came around the corner, and Kyle jerked a thumb at the two unconscious guards. "Make sure they aren't going anywhere."

Jimmy tapped the door. "Passcode protected. But I installed this one." He popped the control panel, examined the innards, and frowned. "Anyone got a conductor of any sort? Necklace, hairpin, anything?"

"Here." Kyle pulled a jack-knife from his back pocket. Jimmy extended the blade, and shorted out two contacts.

The door slid open. Kyle stepped through, and looked around the armoury.

"Perfect. Guns for all." He turned back. "Everyone grab a laser pistol."

* * *

The liftlock doors bulged, and exploded inward. The resulting blast of air, caused by the decompression of the chamber behind, blew fragments of hull and Zentraedi warriors out into space. Corporal Tesch grinned. "Perfect."

"Good work, Corporal." Ranma's Soldier-mode Valkyrie stepped through the gaping hole. "Where are we, Miriya?"

"Forward fighter hangar, Major." Miriya followed Ranma into the hangar. "The _Nupetiet-Vernitzs_ class of ship normally has seven hundred and twenty fighters in this area." She glanced around the abandoned hangar. "I would be surprised if as many as three percent were still operational across the entire ship."

"What about Mecha?"

"The Mecha hangers are mostly on the deck above us."

"Can we stop them from coming down on us?"

Miriya shook her head. "I am sorry, My Lady, but we cannot."

"Don't call me that." He waved the Destroids forward. "First Platoon, set up post here. Fall back if the Zentraedi make a push, but keep me informed."

"Aye, Ma'am."

"Which way, Miriya?"

"A lift at the far end of this hangar will take us to Deck Five. From there, we can gain access to the bridge."

* * *

Jimmy examined the mass of circuits, then shook his head. "I can get most of it, Kyle, but I got a signal on the emergency override line. It's a constant hot, with some kind of encrypted signal. There's no way I can bypass it without setting off the override command."

Kyle frowned. "How big of a wrench does this throw into our plans?"

"Well, the override command is activated by a button on the Captain's chair. If we can disable the button at the source, it should stop the override. But from here, I can't do it. Intraship communications I can cripple, as much as we want."

"We can't cut them all off, or the Bridge will know something's up. Just kill what commo you can running both to and from Auxiliary Control."

"You got it." Jimmy pulled a pair of wire cutters and went to work.

* * *

The lift ground to a halt. Ranma glanced up at the level indicator.

"Deck Four? We're one short."

Miriya joggled the lift control. "Bad news, My Lady. It looks like this lift will not descend any further."

"Crap." Ranma considered. "Is there another lift?"

"Yes, on the starboard side," said Miriya. "The bad news is that we have to cross the training area to reach it. I doubt that the training area is in use in the middle of a battle, however."

"Okay, we don't got a lot of choice." She opened the hatch a crack, and extended a sensor boom through the gap. "Looks clear to me. Lead us through, Miriya."

Miriya opened the hatch all the way and walked her Valkyrie through. "Corporal Tesch, take this lift back up and pick up some more Destroids. Angel, Third Lance, follow me."

"Aye, Ma'am."

Third Lance was composed of two Spartans and a Rifleman, with one Tomahawk for support. The Spartans and Rifleman readied their GU-11s as they left the lift. Ranma swept the area with his passive sensors. "What is this area exactly, Miriya?"

"Training area. This particular compartment is just a companionway, leading from the lifts to the lockers and the main training hall."

"So we shouldn't encounter anyone in Mecha?"

"No."

"Good."

They reached the lift, and Ranma sighed. "Almost anticlimactic." She toggled the lift control, and the hatch opened...to reveal a rather surprised group of Zentraedi in battle armour.

Miriya yelled, "Advance to the rear! Third, provide cover fire!"

The group started to fall back, and the Destroids opened fire with the gun pods. An alarm klaxon started to wail; Ranma cursed.

"They're on to us!" The yell came from Clark.

Half a dozen Zentraedi had already been killed by gunfire, but the remainder brought up their assault rifles and opened up. For the most part, the rifle rounds bounced harmlessly off the Destroids; the Rifleman lost its boom antenna, but no damage was obvious on any of the others.

However, more were coming; Ranma's sensors pinged angrily at him, and he glanced down long enough to see almost fifty more Zentraedi approaching. And unlike the ones in the lift, they wore powered armour.

"More incoming."

"I see them." Miriya's voice was calm. "Nousjadeul-Ger Powered Armour. Angel, smite them!"

"Aye, Ma'am." Amy Clark brought up her rifle/cannon, and drilled an incoming Mecha through the faceplate with a well-aimed 100-round burst. "Positive count, forty-seven units. Angel Thirteen, advise that our Flight is out of missiles."

"Understood."

The Destroids finished putting down the lightly-armoured Zentraedi, leaving the lift a blood-soaked abattoir. They then turned to engage the powered armour. Both Spartans popped open their missile packs and began firing laser-guided missiles, while the Spartan opened up with its particle cannons. But the Human forces were badly outnumbered, and had no cover.

Ranma watched in horror as two Angels were knocked back, their Mecha shedding fragments all over the companionway. Angel Six had the entire torso torn open, and Angel Three lost a leg, followed by its sensor head. The Tomahawk absorbed five separate plasma cannon blasts, and its missiles began to cook off, gutting the machine. She roared her fury, and unlimbered her gun pod.

The 966-PFG autocannon was designed as an anti-aircraft weapon. Its massive 30mm bore spat magnetic proximity-fused explosive fragmentation shells at a rate of twenty-five rounds per second. Unlike the smaller GU-11, it was actively cooled, and could maintain constant fire for up to five minutes – far longer than the under-sized clips feeding it could hold out.

Ranma's Valkyrie grasped the forward grip on the gun with its left arm, and levelled the weapon at the hip. She swung the gun about until the CCIP on her HUD intersected the left-most Zentraedi Power Armour, and she held down the trigger on her stick. The gun roared, its lower rate of fire giving it a booming chatter completely unlike the tearing-cloth sound of the GU-11s around her, and she slowly traverse the weapon across the entire column of armour. The rounds exploded like grenades, tearing up the armoured suits and their occupants with ridiculous ease.

The gun clicked on empty, and she ejected the spent clip, smoothly slapped in her spare, and cranked the first round into the chamber. She glanced around the companionway, to see that the remainder of the Zentraedi mecha were down.

"Angel Three, report."

"I'm outta this fight, Captain. Reactor Two is gone, all sensors gone, my GU-11 is gone."

"Affirmative. Dismount the fighter, board Private Michaelson's Spartan. Angel Six, report." Clark paused. "Warrant Park, respond. Song, can you hear me?"

Ranma swore, and tapped his Divisional Net medical readouts. "Sorry, Amy...she didn't make it."

"Aw, shit." Amy's voice was low, but when she spoke again, it dripped venom. "Angel, form up and board the lift."

* * *

"Hands in the air! All of you!"

Captain Gloval turned in shock. Lin Kyle stood at the bridge hatch, laser pistol in hand. Five others poured in behind him, each covering one of his bridge officers.

Kyle glanced around. "Where's Hayes?"

"At her duty post. The Star Bowl." Gloval scowled. "What exactly is the meaning of this?"

"I am taking over this ship."

"Captain!" Vanessa turned to face Gloval. "Auxiliary Control doesn't respond!"

Gloval dived for his command chair, but Kyle pulled the trigger, burning his leg. He crashed to the ground, a meter and a half short of his goal. Kyle strode forward, and casually burned the entire control console on the chair to slag.

Claudia turned back to her station, and mashed the all-freq emergency broadcast button. Jimmy yelled, and shot wildly in her direction, but only managed to damage the console.

"Bitch!" Kyle turned, and shot her in the back. She screamed, and collapsed to the ground.

* * *

"Hands in the air! All of you!"

The commander of the Zentraedi ship was large, but not in the same league as Breetai. He turned to see the remaining Mecha of the Angel Squadron and Third Platoon filing into his bridge.

**"What the hell do you--"**

"I am Miriya Parino, Quadrano Ace. I command this force, and I am taking command of this ship." She levelled the GU-11 gun pod at the Zentraedi officer, and gunned him down. "Any dissent shall be met with lethal force."

"Ya might have warned him first, Miriya," grumbled Ranma.

"Corporal Santino, please connect us with the Macross Tactical Net."

"Aye, Ma'am." Like the Valkyrie, the Spartan had several small manipulator arms built into its wrist. Santino extended them, and began tearing down a commo console. Ranma reached into the right-side weapons bay of his Valkyrie, and withdrew a transceiver. Santino grabbed it, and within minutes had it talking to the Zentraedi commo systems.

Ranma tapped the Divisional Net. "_Vengeance_, this is Saotome. We've got you patched in, and you can begin transmission any time you like."

Colonel Maistroff's face appeared on the screen, devoid of its usual arrogance. "Major, we have a serious issue aboard Macross."

Ranma's blood ran cold. "What's wrong?"

"Better tap into Tac Net."

Ranma's fingers flew across the controls. A most unwelcome face swam into visibility on his screen.

"Kyle!"

"I now control the bridge of the Macross, and Auxiliary Control has been locked out."

"What the fuck are you doin'?"

"It's simple, really. The Zentraedi could have blown this ship out of the stars any time they wished. Obviously, the only reason that they haven't done so is because they've wanted to recover it intact." He smirked. "Now I've done this for them. I will turn it over to the Zentraedi commander, and the war will end. No-one else need die."

"Don't be a moron, Kyle! They'll kill us all as soon as they have it. Ya gotta know that!"

"Major Saotome is correct." Miriya had also tapped into the Tac Net. "Supreme Commander Dolza now knows that Micronian cultural contamination has spread throughout the Botoru Battalion, and will act to purge it. In addition, no cease-fire between the Quadranos and the remainder of the Dolza Fleet was ever declared; he will move on to destroy my people as well. And to ensure that no further contamination will occur, he will finish off the rest of the Earth."

"Givin' him the Macross will just mean he's got more weapons to shoot us with! Don't do this!"

"You're both wrong." He shook his head. "If you remove the source of the conflict, the conflict will end."

"This ain't about the Macross anymore! It's about survival!"

"I must act to end this war!" Kyle angrily snapped the commo system off.

"Aw, fuck. He's completely lost it." Ranma shook her head. "Sixth, report. Who's closest to Macross?"

Maistroff answered. "Sepia is closest, with elements of Angel and Blue nearby as well. But we're still several hours away from Macross; I don't think your fighters will have the reaction mass to reach them. Skull Squadron is the next closest, and have full tanks, but they are engaged."

"So nobody can do a thing to stop him?"

"I'm sorry, Major. I wish I had better news."

"Well, wishes won't--" She paused. "Wish. Of course. I can reach Macross in mere seconds!" She turned, and ran the Valkyrie towards the lift.


	37. 66: Sacrifice

* * *

_Disclaimer_

_Macross is owned by or licensed to lots of people - Tatsunoko Studios, Harmony Gold, Studio Nue, Streamline Video...note that none of them are me._

_The same can be said of Ranma 1/2 - Rumiko Takahashi, Kitty, Shonen Sunday Comics, Viz Video. Not me._

_I didn't create any of them, and I certainly do not own them. Please don't sue me._

* * *

**SACRIFICE**

The laser pistol had cauterized the wound, so Claudia wasn't bleeding, but it had also wreaked serious internal damage. Kim closed the first aid kit, and scowled up at Kyle.

"We need to get her to the sickbay, or she's going to die."

Kyle shrugged. "What does the life of a soldier matter?"

It was Gloval who answered him, through gritted teeth. "The men and women who serve on this ship have fought and died to protect people like you. So that you need not fight."

"If it weren't for the military," countered Kyle, "the civilians on this ship would be safely at home."

"Safe?" Gloval laughed unsteadily. "Have you looked at the planet recently?"

Vanessa quietly punched up a picture of the Earth. Fires still raged across the surface, brilliant enough to see from space. Kyle stared at the screen in horror.

"You see? The Zentraedi are not playing a game. If you had not paralyzed this ship at this point, we might have prevented this." Not exactly the truth, but...

Kyle turned back to him, face twisted in anger. "You have the blood of billions of people on your hands now. You could have just given them this damn ship, and prevented all of this."

Gloval shook his head. "No. They would have destroyed Earth utterly if we had done so."

"You have no way of knowing this!"

"Actually, I do. Minister Exedore of the Zentraedi told us that those were his orders." Gloval sneered at the teenager, and twisted the knife a bit more. "So the blood of billions of people rests on your hands."

- - - - -

The red and black Valkyrie reconfigured to fighter mode, leaving the surface of the Zentraedi command cruiser behind as Ranma firewalled the engines. As usual, the Kustonov Heat-Piles gave him less than desired speed, but he didn't care. He only needed to be ten kilometers distant.

_Be there._

Space warped around the fighter, the rage and desperation of its pilot fuelling the fold as much as the Protoculture engines, and the jet vanished in a burst of golden light.

- - - - -

"Major Saotome is en route to the Macross." Captain Clark looked down at her commo screen. "It might take some time to recover control of the Macross. Can we begin Phase Two of Schedule Minmei at this time?"

"We can." Maistroff nodded. "It will not be as effective as Phase Three, but it may buy the Major a bit more time."

"Lieutenant Parino. Are we live?"

"Sixteen more centipulses."

"Got it." She turned back to Maistroff. "Get the tape ready."

"Yes, ma'am." Maistroff grinned.

"Colonel, if I may..." Clark hesitated. "You appear to be placing great confidence in Major Saotome. I thought that you didn't like him?"

"I think he's an arrogant, self-centered jerk. He's disgustingly overconfident, and insubordinate to boot. Plus, he's a sex-changing freak. No, I don't like him at all." Maistroff shrugged. "But there's no denying that he's one of our best."

- - - - -

**"My Lord."** The commo technician turned to face Dolza. **"Tactical network is restored."**.

Dolza nodded. **"Open communcations to all ships."**

**"Yes, My Lord."** The commo tech paused. **"My Lord...there is a signal coming through the tactical net."**

**"From where?"**

**"Breetai's flagship."**

**"Attention, all Zentraedi ships."** Breetai's voice filled the Zentraedi Tactical Network. **"You have been led astray from the Imperative. Supreme Commander Dolza has violated our most sacred orders, and led you to do the same."**

**"Cut him off!"**

The commo tech hammered at his keyboard. **"I can't. He's right in the system, tied into the commo net at the core. When I rebuilt the net, I linked all command ships in at the core, it was the only way to make it happen."**

**"Why did you link in** _his_ **ship?"**

**"I didn't."**

Dolza scowled. **"He must have captured a command ship, while our commo net was down. Can we isolate him from the network?"**

**"I do not see how, not without crippling the communications net for almost a kilopulse."**

**"Then it seems he shall have his say."** Dolza leaned back and smiled. **"Let us see what he can accomplish with it."**

On the commo screen, Breetai's voice continued. **"...revealed to me that the Protoculture were not destroyed, as he stated, by the Inspection Army, but by Dolza himself."**

The commo tech whirled in shock. **"My Lord! Is this true?"**

**"It is true."** Dolza nodded. **"But the Protoculture were Micronians, with a culture that had the potential to corrupt our own."**

**"...acted against the Imperative, and has admitted such freely."** Breetai paused. **"Hear him admit it in his own words."**

- - - - -

Space rippled, and the VF-1S appeared a thousand kilometers from the Macross. Ranma cursed; it was a little farther away than she'd hoped. She firewalled the engines, aiming the fighter towards the bridge of the Macross.

"Macross, this is Six-six. Respond."

Nothing but dead air. She scowled, and triggered the change. In the very saturated region of the fighter, Protoculture energy was easily available. He tapped the controls, and quickly discovered the problem; all communications relays to the bridge had been severed.

"Macross auxilary control, this is Six-six. Respond."

There was a brief pause, then a familiar voice came on the Tac Freak. "Major Saotome, this is Commander Hayes."

"Lisa. Thank God. What the hell is going on over there?"

"Lin Kyle has seized the bridge, and has jammed all communications."

"I know that. Can you execute Phase Three without direct control from the bridge?"

"Yes, but while the bridge is held, I cannot broadcast. We need to re-take the bridge, or else destroy it."

- - - - -

Kyle glanced over at one of his companions. "Have you figured out what that flare was?"

"No idea."

"I could figure it out," offered Vanessa. "Just need a few seconds on the computer."

"So you can bypass all of our hard work?" Kyle sneered. "What kind of idiot do you take me for?"

"Oh, I dunno," replied Vanessa. "The mass-murderer and insane tyrant kind?"

Kyle stepped forward and slapped her hard enough to rattle her teeth. "You'd best be advised to watch your tongue, bitch, or I'll rip it out."

"Got it!" Jimmy looked up from the computers. "Defold, according to this. One Valkyie-type fighter, reflex readings off the scope..." He shook his head. "This is nuts. I've never seen a fighter with this configuration."

"So is it alien, or human?"

"It's definitely a Valkyrie, but..."

"Ranma," breathed Claudia.

"Oh, the Soldier Boy who corrupted Minmei." Kyle grinned. "Jimmy, can you patch me through to him without giving away the whole store?"

"Do my best." Jimmy picked at the controls, scowling, then said, "Okay, I can give you visual right into his cockpit."

The screen cleared, to show the visored face of Major Ranma Saotome.

"Kyle. I hereby order you to cease and desist. Release your hostages, and return yourself to custody."

"You know, Saotome, I do believe that Captain Gloval outranks you." Kyle swaggered forward. "He's already given me similar orders, that I have ignored. Why should I listen to you?"

"Because Gloval would merely order you shot for this. Minmei would be unhappy with me if I killed you." Ranma smiled nastily. "But you'd be amazed what you can live through."

"From there, you cannot accomplish much."

"I don't have to stay here. You no doubt detected my fold into the area. I can fold myself straight into the bridge, and take you out from there."

"You might indeed be able to do that." Kyle nodded. "It would not surprise me. But we have six people here with laser pistols. Do you think you can take them all down before one of them burns you down? Are you faster than light?"

Ranma scowled. "I guarantee I will make sure you go down. How well would your little team be co-ordinated if I take you out?"

"Kyle, I got some signal leakage." Jimmy fought with his controls. "He ain't the only one getting this message."

Kyle turned to the former RDF electronics tech. "Can you close it up?"

"No. He's broadcasting." Jimmy jerked his chin towards the display. "And with only the bridge systems, I can't jam a Super's commo net."

"Okay." Kyle turned back towards the screen. "Saotome, who are you broadcasting this to?"

"Anyone in range. And don't tell me to stop. Your buddy there can tell you that directional comms aren't available with radio."

"And who's listening in?"

"Probably Commander Hayes, and my plane captain. Oh, and Minmei."

Kyle's jaw dropped. "You bastard."

"Oh, is that a problem?" Ranma smirked. "Shoulda thought about that before you started this little adventure."

"You just can't help turning her against me, can you?"

"You've managed it fine on your own."

"Major." Ryouga's voice broke into the Tac Net. "I've isolated the damaged circuits, and I am afraid that there's no way I can repair them in time."

"I kinda figured that."

Kyle's smirk slipped back into place. "All this effort, and you'll still lose. What a pity."

Ranma shifted the Valkyrie to Soldier Mode and locked onto Kyle through the observation deck's transparent steel. He triggered the head laser, and watched in dismay as it splashed harmlessly off the plate.

"Why would they put a huge window here unless they could make it resistant to lasers? You're grasping at straws, Saotome."

"Kuso..." Ranma paused, then readied the battle rifle.

"Going to kill us all?" Kyle grinned. "That would look good on your career file."

"If I destroy the bridge, auxilary takes over, and Phase Three can go ahead."

Kyle paused at that, and looked over at Jimmy again. "Is that true?"

"Yeah." Jimmy nodded. "Told you that earlier. That's why we had to hold the bridge. But that popgun of his won't do the job."

"Major!" Gloval yelled. "I order you to destroy the bridge of this ship!"

Kyle stepped forward, and snapped a kick into the Captain's face. Ranma jetted back a few meters, and held down the trigger.

The massive 966-PFG chaingun roared, firing into the plate steel. Proximity-fused shells exploded against the hardened material, but failed to damage it in the slightest. The gun ran dry, and Ranma slowly slung it.

"You see?" Jimmy chuckled. "Even a 100mm slug from a GU-12 couldn't penetrate that steel."

"Looks like he's out of missiles, too." Kyle stepped forward, closer to the screen. "Well, Saotome. Looks like this is one jam you can't fight your way out of."

"Ranma." Commander Hayes' face appeared in the screen. "We can start Phase Three as soon as the bridge is retaken or destroyed. You need to find a way."

"I--"

"Please, Ranma." Minmei crowded onto the screen beside Lisa. "If you can stop Kyle, I can stop this war. I believe in you."

Ranma shook his head. "I can't. The armour is too strong for my guns, and I'm out of ammo now anyway. And we need the Captain."

"Major Saotome." Gloval rubbed his jaw. "I can be replaced. Minmei cannot. We need her to win the war."

"Captain, I cannot--"

"Lisa!" Gloval struggled to his feet, leaning heavily against the bulkhead to support his damaged leg. "You know fully well that you can."

Kyle took an angry step towards Gloval, but the older man merely sneered at me.

"What, do you intend to kill me to shut me up, Kyle? Or merely cause me more pain?" He snorted. "Pacifist my ass."

Kyle ground his teeth. The situation was falling apart around his ears, and he could not recover it.

"Major, I reiterate my order. Destroy the bridge. Lisa?"

"Yes, sir?" Her voice was broken with tears.

"Fight your ship, Captain."

- - - - -

_Destroy the bridge. But how?_

One nuke would do the trick. But he'd expended all of them during Schedule Trap Door. His 966-PFG was empty, and worthless anyway; he'd emptied an entire ammo drum, to no effect. The lasers were being detuned by the material of the viewport; he could fire at it until his reflex batteries ran dry, and do nothing.

The reflex batteries.

Of course. The Macross' main guns fired pure reflex energy. The gravitic distortions caused by reflex energy were what destroyed a ship, not any energy transfer. If he could somehow tune the energies so that he could fire it...

_You are mutable. Your machines are mutable._

He brought the Valkyrie's arms forward, and concentrated. The arms reshaped, splitting and extending. Reflex energy crackled between them, so much that he felt the change wash over her, regardless of her will.

Kyle gaped at him through the Tac Net. "No!"

A torrent of energy leaped from the mecha, slamming into the bridge port. Shattered steel exploded outwards, blowing his jet away from the bridge, and decompressing the bridge completely. Microseconds afterwards, the gravitic wave smashed all circuitry within the bridge beyond repair.

- - - - -

Lisa stared at the telltales before her. She fought back the tears. Grief would come later.

For now, she had duty to fall back upon.

"Open all channels. Link into the Zentraedi command network." She turned to Minmei. "It's time."

She nodded, and stepped forward to the microphone.

- - - - -

_"I have a tale to tell_

_Sometimes it gets so hard to hide it well_

_I was not ready for the fall_

_Too blind to see the writing on the wall..."_

Hunter tapped his earpiece. "Is that...singing?"

"Sounds like Minmei!"

Max grinned. "All right. Phase Three is back online. Let's roll them up."

- - - - -

Dolza stared in disbelief as his units fell into disarray.

**"Why the hell are they falling out of formation?"** He turned to his communications officer, who had his head down on the console. **"What is wrong with you?"**

**"On the commo net...there is noise..."** The commo officer shook his head. **"I've never heard anything like it. It makes me feel..."**

**"Put it on the overhead!"**

The commo officer shakily stabbed a switch, and the bridge of the Zentraedi flagship was filled with song.

_"A man can tell a thousand lies_

_I've learned my lesson well_

_Hope I live to tell_

_The secret I have learned_

_´till then_

_It will burn inside of me..."_

**"Cultural contamination!"** Dolza shook his head. **"Close all channels, now! Seal the net!"**

The commo officer was too far gone to respond, or to obey.

- - - - -

Across the Zentraedi fleet, warriors and officers alike fell back, horrified by the terrible psychological warfare being wreaked by the humans. Save for the Botoru Battalion and the Quadrano Battalion. Exedore and Azonia had been careful to expose all of their warriors to music. Those that had not already experienced it themselves.

Throughout the Zentraedi defectors' fleets, the soldiers cranked the tunes.

But the Zentraedi of Dolza's armada had not had exposure to music. The Imperative had already been weakened when they learned of their leader's violation. It collapsed completely under the emotional assault of the music. Feelings that had been forcibly repressed burst forward, and the Zentraedi found themselves unable to fight.

The Macross leaped forwards, its subluminal drive at maximum power. Mecha were brushed aside like chaff by its passage. Screening ships ignored it, caught in the music, unable to effectively fight. The main gun roared, carving a hole through Dolza's flagship, but even this battery could not destroy the titanic Zentraedi fortress. The Macross sailed through the open hole, and raised its omnidirectional barrier.

Once before, this barrier had overloaded, laying waste to an entire city. Now, as before, it exploded, the destructive wave of energy smashing through the fortress. The fireball roared outward, consuming a hundred thousand ships, before fading away.

Through the ionized plasma, the Macross sailed, burned and battered, but still alive.

- - - - -

Ranma's instruments were dark.

_Guess I overloaded the fighter completely._ She tried to shift back to male form, but the Kustonov Heat-Piles lacked the reflex power to allow even that.

_Can't manoevre, can't fold back to the ship..._ She smiled bitterly. _Guess this is finally where it ends. The Shaping is complete, the Zentraedi will never be the same. The Regis' hopes for her people's evolution are back on track, and the Earth is saved. All it cost were the lives of almost every Human, my own included._

_I hope it was worth it._

The headset crackled.

_"If I ran away_

_I'd never have the strength_

_To go very far..."_

"Huh?" She tapped the controls, but they remained dark. "What the hell?"

_"How would they hear_

_The beating of my heart..."_

"How am I hearin' this music?" She glanced down. "Backup batteries, just enough for commo..."

_"Will it grow cold_

_The secret that I hide, wil I grow old..."_

"Blue Lead to Six-six."

Ranma's heart leaped.

"Six-six. God, am I glad to hear your voice, Captain Tendo."

Blue Lead slipped alongside Ranma's crippled Valkyrie, and took one of its shattered arms. On the other side, Shampoo's custom Queadlunn-Rau took the other.

"Looks like you need a tow, sir."

"Shampoo happy to help."

Ranma smiled. "Okay. Let's go home."

_"How will they hear_

_When will they learn_

_How will they know..."_

* * *


	38. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

Getting Breetai and Azonia to agree to micronization was only slightly more difficult than getting a giraffe into roller skates. But the importance of this ceremony had been stressed, and they had reluctantly undergone the re-cloning procedure. Now, they each shook hands with Admiral Lisa Hayes, Captain of the Macross and recently appointed Commander-In-Chief of the United Nations Space Defense Administration.

Or, what was left of it.

"May the peace we forge today last until the end of time," said Lisa.

* * *

"Yo, Major."

Ranma glanced over his shoulder, to see Ryouga and Max. "Yo. Lookin' good, pig-boy." He poked at the plane captain's rank insignia. "They gave you that third rocker, I see."

"Yep. Sergeant Major. Can you believe it?" Ryouga grinned. "And Max here got his second bar."

"Congratulations, Captain." Ranma grinned. "They bumped Rick to Major, so he's gonna be busy. Trust me, I know." He glanced down at his own rank. "And they gave me my bird, so I've got a whole damn regiment to boss now."

"I know. Word has it that the First will be under your command." Max shrugged. "We're gonna be busy...Khyron's still at large, with his gang of idiots, and not all of Dolza's fleet was willing to surrender."

"Where's your other third?"

"Miriya?" Ryouga laughed. "She grabbed Akane and buggered off somewhere. Probably getting smashed as we speak."

"She decided what she's gonna do with you two yet?"

Max shook his head. "No. But I got a feeling that she's going to take Hibiki, here." He slapped the Sergeant's arm. "After all, he's in love with her, the poor goof."

"Bite me, Captain."

"How about you and the Captain, Colonel?" Max tilted his head. "Sixth is remaining as part of the Macross' carrier air wing, so they're still under Colonel Tendo. She's out of your chain of command, and you guys have been engaged since the start of the war."

"Long before then, actually." Ranma sighed. "We got to know each other a lot better over the last year. I dunno, maybe..."

"Maybe?" Max snickered. "Better make up your mind, because others are lining up. A Fallen Angel rarely has to buy her own beer."

"Guys, just between you and me?" Ranma looked down. "I don't really think we should get married. I mean, there's a problem with my family."

"I thought your father set up the engagement as a matter of honour?" Max frowned.

"Heh." Ranma grinned. "Family honour. Right. Like my Pops has any honour. And Mom has these weird ideas about manliness, apparently...she might reject me. I can't trap Akane in a marriage with me if I have no family line."

"Then what are you going to do?" Ryouga scowled. "Just lead her along? Or dump her, after all the time you two spent together?"

"I don't know!" He threw up his hands. "Dammit, it's a lose-lose situation for me, okay? She and I are getting along all right, but I just..." He sighed again. "I don't wanna be just someone she married because she had to. Especially without the family behind me. There might be someone out there better for her."

"Colonel Saotome."

Ranma gulped, and turned to face his commanding officer. "Yes, Admiral?"

"New orders, Colonel. You have two months of accrued leave."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I hereby order you to take all your accrued leave now. We might need you later, so I want it used up."

"Well, ma'am, that beats the hell out of several orders you've given me in the past." Ranma grinned. "I still think you're up to something, though. What gives?"

"I've given Captain Tendo two extra weeks leave, bringing her total leave to equal yours." Lisa grinned. "You're to spend it with her."

"Ma'am...do you live to play matchmaker?"

"Someone has to." She pointed. "Your fiancee is at the Dragon, with Miriya. Go collect her, and get out of my sight."

Ranma saluted. "Yes, ma'am." He turned, and walked off.

Ryouga watched him leave, then turned to the Admiral. "Ma'am, permission to speak freely?"

"By all means."

"I've gotten a pretty good idea that you're rather attracted to the Colonel."

She blushed slightly. "Is it that obvious?"

"Well, if _I_ can see it..." He shrugged. "So are you so certain that you've lost that you'll send him off with your number-one rival?"

"Sergeant...if two months alone together doesn't ruin their relationship, there is nothing at all that I might try that will." She grinned. "And if it does...Chance!"

Ryouga glanced over at Max. "She's taking lessons from Minmei, isn't she?"

* * *

Akane had not, after all, been drinking. Ranma had found her discussing 'Micronian pair-bonding' with Miriya at the Dragon, with Minmei and Shampoo offering their own takes. It had taken some time to drag her away from the gossip, but now their jet - a VF-1D, the only one left - was winging over the Pacific.

"Tokyo was lasered pretty badly," commented Ranma, "but Nerima is at the outskirts of the city, and probably survived."

"The house is most likely gone," said Akane. "But if it's still there, we can rebuild. And your mother is probably all right."

"I can only hope." Ranma glanced down at the scroll, clipped to his kneeboard. "And I hope she'll look past the curse, and the Angel Squadron, and the Miss Macross thing."

"Ranma." Akane leaned forwards. "You're a Colonel in the U.N. Spacy. You've worked your way through the ranks from Corporal. You've got more decorations than any other living officer. You sacrificed many of your best friends to stop a war, almost singlehandedly worked every trick needed to bring the Zentraedi to peace, and in general have proven that you are truly a man among men. If it's not good enough for her..."

"Then I'll be forced to turn away from my family." He sighed. "What will that mean for your honour?"

"It doesn't matter." She shook her head. "You have honour enough to stand on your own. If it isn't enough for her..." She smiled. "I've already spoken to my father, and he has judged you as well as I have. If she won't have you, we certainly will."

Ranma glanced back, but the Macross had long since vanished below the horizon. "The ship really came through for us, didn't she?"

"Yeah." Akane smiled. "I can't believe I'm missing those steel walls."

"We'll be back before you know it." Ranma flashed a thumbs up. "We're not done with her yet."

**-THE END-**

* * *


End file.
